The Tapestry of the Red Horse
by RonsPigwidgeon
Summary: Weasley: You're snobbish and rude, but sometimes you're not, and I think that not gave me plenty of room to assume you felt more than lust. Is Ron right? RD Slash. Violence, Sexual Content, etc..
1. The Tapestry

A/N: this story is not in chronological order, which can make it rather confusing at times. due to my reader's persistence, and quite frankly, my own confusion, i've now inserted dates in front of each section so that the section can be put in a clearer time order. it helped me out, i certainly hope it helps you. 

before the dates existed, i had been posting a chronology chart. i will leave it in tact. 

also, a large thank you to plug in delaney because she beta'd everything up to chapter ten for me because she is a goddess and my new bestest friend :D thank you! 

-- chapter 1 -- 

- November - 1996 - Sixth Year-

The dark seemed to have engulfed me as I walked further toward the tapestry of the red horse. The quiet is too much, makes me nervous. I constantly heard the swish of a tail; saw the flash of yellow eyes around the corner. Was she there, in the wings, waiting for me to make the sound that will be enough for her to alert Filch? But there was nothing, only my imagination getting the best of my guilty conscious. A few more feet and I was behind the tapestry, in the room, waiting. He was always late, no matter what time of day or night it was. It was almost as though he liked to make me anxious for him, nervous that he will abandon me. Because he has before, just to let me know that he was in charge, he controlled everything, and I could never be certain of anything that he did. He enjoyed the power trip that my uncertainty gave him. 

I sat in a chair next to the fire a house elf had prepared upon his request, as always. Being a member of S.P.E.W, I was nervous to ask the house elves for anything for fear that Hermione would find out and hurt me; but he grew up in a home that abused the privilege of having several of them, and so he felt no scruples about demanding their service and then threatening them with violence if they gave our tryst away. There was a bowl of fresh strawberries and grapes on the table next to my chair, picked fresh from the patch he kept in the greenhouses. I took a few grapes to nibble, my eyes trained on the stairs leading into the room and my ears perked for the slightest noise. 

As the minutes passed, my mind began to wander to thoughts of the day. Harry had been in a peculiar mood, quieter than usual. He would not tell me what was wrong, but I knew there was something and so did Hermione. He didn't even retort when Malfoy made a rude remark about his scar. Hermione thought it had something to do with the letter Lupin had sent him the week before, but I thought it less likely to only be about that. Harry knew better than to dwell on events that he couldn't control. 

There was a noise, a swoosh of clothe, and there he was, brushing blonde silk from his eyes with an irritated scowl as he descended into the room. His eyes rested on me and the scowl shifted slightly to more of a smirk. "You're late," I told him, popping the last grape into my mouth. 

His eyes narrowed as he drew closer to my chair, "You're lucky I came at all after the way you acted during history. Who told you to eat before I arrived?" He circled to the back of my chair and I could sense his gaze scrutinizing me. He leant over my chair, his lips mere centimeters from my ear, "You know they're only to be touched if you're good." 

"Didn't think you were coming. Was just about to go back to bed, actually." 

His fingers entangled in my hair, and with a rough tug, my head was pulled back so that my eyes met his. "Do not lie to me," he hissed, his face contorted into a snarl. The words of response tangled in my throat, choking my breath as I stared into his storming eyes. He studied me for a moment before releasing my scalp and walking around to stand in front of me. I watched him, fighting the urge to reach out to him, knowing it was best to allow him the first touch. "I want to go to bed early tonight, so let's get this over with. Take those filthy robes off." He turned to the table and picked a strawberry from the bowl to taste as I began to undress. 

Once bare and standing in front of him, his attention turned back to me. He circled me, surveying my body. I resisted a shiver as a single fingernail trailed the line of a red scratch running down my abdomen. "Who did this? Were you with someone else?" His eyes flashed anger again and fear passed through me as his face came close enough to mine for our noses to touch. 

I shook my head. "No, of course not. You know you're the only one." 

"Then how did that mark get there?" He was challenging me, enjoyed the fear he instilled with such brutality. 

"I ran into the door handle on the shower this morning," I spoke, nearly a whisper. 

He glanced at it again, not moving his head, his finger still resting just below the mark. "You're such a bloody git, you know that? What kind of imbecile runs into a door handle? Honestly." I didn't respond, knew he wasn't looking for an answer. I closed my eyes as his fingernails raked up my side, leaving thin lines of blood behind. I allowed the shiver to go through me as his lips brushed my jaw, his teeth scratching slowly, and his hands fell to my sides, pulling me to him. I moved slightly to catch his lips; my fingers fumbling to push passed his robes as his tongue violated my mouth. I felt the push back into the chair as his robes fell and his full weight pressed down on me. I could feel the need to have him possess me, could feel it down to the slicing pain of his teeth gnawing at my bottom lip enough to draw blood. My hands roamed his body, my fingers slipping through his soft hair, as he lapped up the blood he had released. His hand slid down my waist to the length that had been waiting all day for his touch, and he pulled on it, yanked harder than my body liked and I yelped into his mouth. I was punished with another hard tug and a groan infiltrated our interlocked mouths as he leaned further into me, beginning to pull with a gentler hand. 

Suddenly, he removed himself from me, leaving me cold as he stood to face me with a sneer. I looked up at him with confusion before he captured a handful of my hair and pulled me onto my knees in front of him, my eyes in line with his erection. I looked up into his eyes before taking a hold on him and running my tongue up the underside. He moaned and I watched as his eyes shut to the feel of it. His hand was still fisted around my hair and he guided my mouth around him and directed my head in sucking him. I closed my eyes and fell into the familiar feeling of pleasuring him, letting my tongue and lips do the work as my mind watched his enthrallment. 

I could feel that he was close, this shudder always went through him just before, and he pulled my head away with a hard tug that pulled out more than a few strands. I clenched my eyes shut and surrendered to the pain as he forcefully shoved me onto the rough carpet and made me to turn my back to him. His fingers caressed the thin lines along my back that he had created a few nights previous as he knelt down behind me. I sighed and leaned up on my elbows, enjoying the rarity of a soft touch. The euphoria was short-lived, however, when he entered me without warning, and with full force. I cried out as my head dropped to the carpet in surprise. I had no preparation for such a siege and the saliva left on him was not enough to ease his entry. A hand gripped at my hip, fingernails digging into my skin, as he began to thrust violently. His body was hunched over me, his lips pressed to the hollow of my neck and shoulder before his teeth clenched around the sensitive skin and an onslaught of pain rushed into my shoulder. I groaned and leaned back into him, urging him to go deeper as my mouth shot open in uncontrollable pleasure. He obliged me and pushed deeper and harder, shoving my face into the carpet with every thrust. I moaned and let out a string of incoherent curses as I fought futilely to lift myself back onto my elbows. His hand pressed against my neck, pressing me down as I struggled against his strength. I could hear his voice somewhere in the distance, strings of words, unintelligible, but undoubtedly things that would make even Snape blush. 

And all this time we were building in unison towards that final edge, that final plummet into unimaginable bliss. His thrusts grew rawer, more urgent, and I pushed back into him with the same urgency. And all of the sudden we fell over into the abyss and I could feel our moans echo through the room as his seed spilled into me and mine fell onto the carpet. He thrust a few final times before collapsing on top of me with his chin on my shoulder. He left light kisses all along my neck and shoulder blade before resting his cheek against my shoulder and taking a few breaths. I hadn't moved, my mind entirely void of anything but those lips brushing my skin. 

There was a soft sigh and he was out of me as suddenly as he had been in. I shivered a bit as I sat up. He was grabbing another strawberry to nibble on as he sat in the chair opposite the one I had been in earlier. I watched him with quiet contemplation as he meticulously nipped bits off the berry, careful not to sodden his hands or lips with the red juice. "I thought you wanted to go to bed early tonight." 

His glance flickered at me in sublime disinterest before settling back at his task. "I changed my mind." His voice was without its previous malice. He was always gentler afterwards. I crawled a bit closer to sit next to the chair and leaned my head on his knee. The fingers of his unoccupied hand ran through my hair languidly, massaging my scalp ever so softly. I let out a soft sigh and relaxed, the cool skin of his knee soothing my rug-roughened cheek. "Is there anyone in your family without red hair? Maybe a cousin, or a distant aunt, or something?" 

I closed my eyes at his words, knowing they held none of the usual insult, at least they were not intended to. "My cousin, Serina, has strawberry blonde hair, but I think that's as non-redhead as we get. Is there anyone in your family that isn't blonde?" I looked up at him and he smiled a little before tugging my chin up to examine my burned cheek. 

"You'll have to fix that or Potter and the Mudblood will have a million questions that I don't want answered." He ran a thumb over it gently before letting my face go. 

"Don't call Hermione a Mudblood; she's a better witch than most purebloods I've seen. What does it matter that she's muggle-born?" 

"There's quite a bit of difference, but seeing as I'm not interested in fighting with you at the moment, I'll have to explain later. Hand me another strawberry." I did as I was told and he leaned further into the chair as he began to nibble again. He indicated for me to join him in the chair and I obliged him, straddling his hips. He had bitten the tip of the strawberry and rubbed it across my lips as a sort of juicy lip-balm. He leaned into me and licked the juice away before enveloping my lips in his. His tongue moved languidly over mine, pulling a slight moan from somewhere in my throat. He smiled against my lips, pulling me closer to his body. He had become lethargic in the wake of his orgasm, the violence seeping from him like blood from a slice in the skin. That was what made all the rest worth it; the tenderness, the emotion that moved through him like a slow ocean current. We played a slow dance of tongues and lips and teeth and his fingers grazed the scratches on my back. I moved over him, feeling his every muscle contract and release as the kiss grew less languid and more heated. 

When he abruptly pushed me away from him, out of the chair, there was a flicker of a pout as I sat sprawled on the floor, feeling discarded. He stood and stepped around me to pick up his robes, brushing a few of the wrinkles out before sliding it on and securing the clasps. I sat and watched him, unable to speak and knowing he wouldn't want me to. The vulgarity and violence had returned sometime during that kiss, I could see it flash in his eyes as he scowled at me. "Get up and get dressed, you look ridiculous." He spat, adjusting his hair in a small mirror on the opposing wall. I stood slowly and began to redress, watching him the entire time. He glanced at me in the mirror and turned with a roll of his eyes, "What are you looking at?" I didn't respond as I turned my eyes to the work my hands were performing. I heard the rustle of his robes as he turned toward the door. There was a pause, but I didn't look up. "I need not remind you that no one is to know of this, correct?" 

I nodded, but remained silent, wishing for him to just leave me before I started to hate him again. But he didn't leave, because I could hear him breathing and when I looked up he was right in front of me, staring at me as though I had just insulted his mother. "What?" He didn't say anything and his eyes never even indicated that a question had been asked. And then his lips were on mine again and I was being shoved against the wall, his body pressing into mine with such urgency. I returned the kiss, wrapped my arms around him to pull him even closer. He pulled his lips away, but didn't move away from me, continuing to stare into me. 

"You're mine; you know that, don't you?" 

I didn't know how to respond, the question had been so obscure. "I… yeah… Yeah, I know." 

"Good because I don't want you to go back up there with Potter and forget who you share a bed with." 

"Who? Myself? I've never shared a bed with you." It just slipped; I was still too confused by his sudden question. His hand wrapped around the slight bulge in my pants that his kiss had created and squeezed. Hard. I yelped and tried to pull away, but he was stronger. "You know what I mean. You are with me and no one else. I don't want you soiled with Potter sweat, or Finnigan, Thomas, or Longbottom for that matter. Do you understand?" He emphasized the last question with a harder squeeze that left me breathless and searing with pain. 

"I understand. Why do you think I'm going to sleep with Harry, or any of them? You know I only want you." 

He let go of me and stepped away, a sneer planted on those thin lips, "You're wearing his pants." 

I looked down at myself and noticed that he was right. I had put on Harry's pants instead of my own in my haste to get to the tapestry. I shrugged, but then thought about it, "How do you know these are Harry's?" 

A flicker of distaste and he turned for the stairway, his answer trailing over his shoulder as he left, "They're too new to be yours." 

I stood against the wall for a moment, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart. I closed my eyes for a moment, calmed, and then walked out after him into the silent hallways and back to Gryffindor. 


	2. Squirplicks

A/N: Thank you for the two lovely reviews! Very happy to have been spoken of so kindly! You both made my day! 

Couple quick notes: About Harry being gay. Don't know where you thought of it, but I'm not saying, lol. 

About Draco treating Ron badly, I'm sorry. It's gonna continue, though. I'm addicted to sadictive, bastardized Malfoy, couldn't tell you why. 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 2 -- 

- October 7 - 1997 - Seventh Year -

Hermione was talking excitedly about the Elvin War of 1032 she had read about in some book or another, but Harry and I had tuned her out as we headed towards Hagrid's hut. She'd been so enthusiastic about history lately, and for Merlin only knew what reason, not as though the subject was even a little bit interesting, that both of us wanted to put a silencing charm on her and have some peace. 

"Wood sent me an owl yesterday, said he's been bumped to starting keeper. The ink was kind of blotchy; I think he was so excited he'd been crying." He let out a chuckle and I knew what he was talking about. Oliver Wood was about as passionate about Quidditch as Hermione was about homework. This would probably rate up there with getting married and having children in the 'best moments of life' category for him. 

"Brilliant! Think he'll send us some tickets? Maybe when they're playing the Cannons?" 

"Don't know, I'll owl him back and ask." 

"Be brilliant, wouldn't it? See Oliver play against the Cannons? Cannons would win, of course, but it'd still be bloody brilliant." Harry only shook his head at me as we approached the class, all waving to Hagrid. Hermione was still on about the bloody Elvin War, not noticing that we weren't listening, but she stopped when Hagrid began giving a lesson on Squirplicks. Everyone was huddled around something on the ground, and when we managed to maneuver our way up to the relative front, we saw what they were all looking at as they listened to Hagrid. Two medium-sized pools had been dug in the ground and there was a pile of white globular things in the middle of each. Hagrid told us they were eggs and that they would hatch by the end of the week into tiny tadpoles. Frogs, he was showing us frogs. Honestly. Yes, they had wings and could ward off certain dark spells if you had one in your hand, but still. They were glorified frogs. 

As Hagrid continued to talk, I managed to slip further back in the crowd, listening less and less to what he was saying. Neither Harry nor Hermione seemed to notice that I had slipped away. Once on the outskirts, I found a rock near where Hagrid's boar hound was roped to the side of the hut and sat down to pass the time petting him and thinking of Quidditch. Fang sniffed at my sleeve before licking my hand affectionately. I wrinkled my nose and tried to pull the hand away from all the slobber, feeling slimy and in desperate need of a wash basin. "Fang… don't do that, mate. You've got me all gross now." I finally pulled it from his reach and wiped his drool off on the grass near the rock. I was just reaching up to scratch behind Fang's ear to halt his tongue approaching my cheek when a drawl to my right stopped my hand. 

"I didn't know your mother was visiting, Weasley, I'd 've brought a gift." I looked up to see the slimy little git standing above me with his ever-present smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

"Go bugger your cronies, I'm not interested." I turned my back to him and focused on Fang as I scratched behind his ears, clenching my teeth in anger. I was surprised to have a hand clench tightly around my forearm and pull me to my feet. Malfoy was dragging me around the hut to the back, out of sight of the other students. "What the bloody fuck, Malfoy?! Let me go, you slimy ferret!" I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp, but his grip was stronger than a binding spell. I lost my breath momentarily as I was shoved up against the back wall of Hagrid's hut, Malfoy's hand pressing into my neck to keep me in place. 

"What did you just call me?" he growled, eyes mere slits of angry fire. I returned the glare. 

"You heard me, you fucking ferret. Let me go, you're hurting my neck." I tried to pull at his hand, but he wasn't about to budge. 

"I have no intention of doing anything of the sort, and if you do not stop calling me that, I'm _really_ going to hurt you." He was furious and I knew this was not going to go well, but I couldn't stop myself. 

"I'll call you whatever the bloody fuck I like, you stupid, spoiled, little prat." I spat back, stopping my struggling in favor of glaring him down. His grip on my neck intensified and I found myself in a slight struggle for breath. 

"That's right, Weasel, I _am_ spoiled. Unlike your pathetic excuse for a family, my parents could afford to get me whatever I wanted. Which means that I get very angry when I don't get what I want. Where the fuck were you last night? I waited for half an hour for you. Malfoys. Do. Not. Wait." 

"Looks like you did, doesn't it?" I stated with a smirk, pleased to have successfully turned the tables on him. He slammed me harder into the wall. 

"Where were you, you pathetic excuse for a pure blood?!" He was seething by then and I half-expected him to start hitting me at any second. 

"At the last minute, I decided I had better things to do. Sorry to have left you waiting. Now would you please let go of me? You're contaminating my skin with your Slytherin slime." This only earned me another slam against the wall, my head hitting with a loud thump this time, making me a bit disoriented for a moment. 

"Better things?! What could you possibly have to do that is better than being with me? I can't imagine anything that could possibly dissuade you from such a privilege." His teeth were clenched and I could tell that he was struggling to keep his composure. 

"I found a more… attractive partner." The smirk grew as I saw the flash of pure ferocity and then his fist connected with my nose before I even had time to see him move. My hands flew to my face as he let go and I slid down the wall to slump in the grass. "Merlin, Malfoy…" 

He leaned down, face contorted into a sneer as he pulled my chin up to meet his eyes. "There is no one more attractive than I am. You are mine, no exceptions. You had better be lying or I might just pull an avada kedavra on your pathetic ass. Don't you dare think I wouldn't." 

I laughed as I wiped the blood from my nose with my sleeve, looking up at him still snickering. "You would never dare kill me, ferret. You want me too bad. Who else would you fuck? No one else could put up with you." 

He growled and shoved me into the wall again. "I could fuck anyone in this school if I wanted to. You are easily replaceable. Don't be so stupid as to place yourself so high up on my list." 

I shook my head, smirking, "It isn't just fucking, Malfoy, and you know it. No one else would fight with you the way I do, and that's what you want more than anything. Don't try to deny it because I know you better than you think. If you didn't have someone to yell at, you wouldn't even be able to get it up." I had managed to stand by the time I was finished and Draco was so close to me I could feel his heaving breath on my cheek. 

His hand was shaking slightly as he grabbed onto my collar to pull me that much closer as he hissed in my ear, "You shut the bloody fuck up or there are not words for what I will do to you." There was a tick in my head and I suddenly forgot about my bloody nose or the intoxicating smell of his soap as I shoved him off of me and moved away from the wall, turning to walk back to the class. I glanced him almost lose his footing, but he remained standing as he stalked after me. "You. Do. Not. Walk. Away. From. Me. Get back here!" he yelled, yanking my sleeve to pull me around to look at him again. 

I yanked my arm away and glared into his smoldering face, "Go sodding talk to Pansy, why don't you? I'm finished with this conversation." I turned before he could respond and hurried around the building to rejoin the class. If he followed me, I don't know, and at the time, I didn't care either way. I was done letting him abuse me, especially after hearing what Seamus said he saw him doing with Parkinson behind the broom shed. The sodding bastard could rot in Azkaban for all I gave a shit about him. 

At lunch I told Harry and Hermione I wasn't hungry and I would see them later. They both looked quite skeptical, but didn't ask me any questions. I was thankful, because I would have had to lie. There was no way that I was going to tell them that I wasn't hungry because I didn't want to see Malfoy. So, I went up to the Owlery to visit Pig, who was flitting excitedly next to a very annoyed-looking Hedwig. I laughed and smoothed a hand down Hedwig's neck to relax her while Pig flew up to nest in my hair. As much as my tiny excuse for an owl buggered me, he was loyal and he never once failed to get a message to the rightful owner. I took a few owl treats out of my pocket as I reach up to pull him out of my hair. He puffed up in my hand and then cooed when I gave him a treat. Hedwig eyed him suspiciously before accepting the treat I held out for her as well. Pig was affectionately nipping at my finger as I rubbed down his feathers with my thumb, giving him another treat to settle him down a bit more. I held out a few more for Hedwig and patted her head as she ate. "Why do I always fall for the wrong people, Hedwig? Am I cursed?" I asked as I continued to stroke her neck with my free hand. She only chirped at me and nipped at my thumb. I sighed and nodded to myself, "I thought so." 

- - - - -

There was a small package wrapped in silver paper sitting on my bed when I got back to Gryffindor after dinner. It was sitting on a torn bit of parchment with a short sentence of perfect script. It read simply, "More at midnight." There was no signature. Confused, I sat down and opened the package. There were two chocolate-covered strawberries inside. 


	3. Essay for Ransom

A/N: thank you one again for the lovely reviews. i'm thrilled that you all like the story so much, definitely keeps me motivated to continue writing. 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 3.2 -- 

- January 25 - 1997 - Sixth Year -

"'Heard McGonagall did a bit o' sword fightin' back in the day. Watcha think?" Seamus asked, making me almost spit out the black pudding I'd just eaten. 

"Bloody Hell, Finnigan! We're trying to eat here!" Harry exclaimed, giving him a look of disgust as he put down his fork. 

"No kidding! Merlin, I'm gonna 'ave that one in me head for months now!" Dean chimed in. 

"Nightmares for weeks! Honestly!" Neville looked as though he were going to puke. 

"What?" Seamus had that vacant, confused look on his face he always got when he said something vulgar he didn't realize wasn't funny. We all glared at him and Harry changed the subject. 

"Did anyone notice Brown's skirt's getting a bit too short to be legal?" 

"Great legs, that one. I wouldn't mind a go at her." Dean smirked as he took a bite of food. 

"Yeah, as long as she shut her mouth," I muttered, eating another bite. I was just about to try and change the subject again, when Hermione came to eat and did it for me. 

"Don't you boys ever talking about anything but sex? Honestly," she muttered as she sat next to Harry and spooned a few ladles of pudding onto her plate. Everyone looked down at their plates, not about to argue. Hermione had been in one of those moods ever since Snape had given her essay on sleeping potions an unsatisfactory mark, despite it being three feet longer than asked for. 

After dinner, Harry and I headed back to the common room while Hermione went back to the library to 'read'. I found it hard to believe that she hadn't already read every book in the library by then, but I digress. When we climbed into the portrait hole, everyone was gathered around the bulletin board. It appeared that another Hogsmeade weekend was planned for two weeks from that Saturday. Harry and I sat down at a table in the back corner, away from the excited group, and took out our transfiguration homework. After half an hour of work, I felt eyes on me and looked up to see Harry starring at me with a grin to compete with a Cheshire cat. 

"What? Do I have something hanging from my nose?" I reached up instinctively to check, but Harry only laughed. 

"No, I was just thinking of something." 

"And that was?" 

"Hogsmeade." 

"Yeah, it's a wizarding town, great shops, Butterbeer. What's your point?" I cocked an eyebrow at him before going back to my essay on the challenges of transforming an eagle into a broom. 

"Are you gonna ask Hermione to go?" 

I didn't look up from my paper. "Hermione always comes, why would we ask her?" 

I heard him sigh and looked up to see him rolling his eyes, "No! I mean are _you_ going to ask _her_ to go with _you_? As in on a date… finally." 

And understanding immediately dawned on me, making me a bit anxious as I looked right back at my paper, "Don't know what you mean, mate. Why would I want to take Hermione out on a date? We're just friends." 

He sighed again and reached over to pull the paper out from under my hand. I gave him a cross glare, but he just shook his head. "I know you like her, Ron. You don't have to lie to me just because she's our best friend. I'd be ok if you got together with her. Relieved, actually." 

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck, avoiding his eyes. I knew this was eventually going to come up, and I was ready to tell him, but that didn't mean I liked having to do it. "Look, mate, there's… there's something I need to tell you. There's uh… you see… it's just that…" My words were sputtering apart like a fallen chess set and I couldn't meet his confused gaze. I was worried that he would react badly; that he would think that I liked him, or something. Which wasn't true, at all, obviously, I was shagging bloody Draco Malfoy for fuck's sake. But still, I was worried. I saw his face turn into a wide grin from the corner of my eye. 

"You're nervous about asking her, right? Think she won't say yes? Don't worry, she likes you. I can tell. She's just waiting for you to finally knock up the courage and ask." 

I sighed again and fiddled with a bit of torn parchment, "That's not it, either, mate. I um… I don't like Hermione. At least not like that…" 

"Sod it, Ron, you do, too! You can be truthful with me, there's no reason for you not to be." 

"I know that, I am being truthful. I don't like Hermione. Well, I do like her, but just as a friend. Romantically speaking, she's not exactly my type." I glanced up to see him lean back in his chair and fold his arms over his chest with a look of skepticism. 

"Not your type, huh? Why's that?" 

"She's um…" I bit my lip and looked down again. I could feel my hand shaking slightly and my foot was going into spasms against the floor. I took a deep breath to calm down and then I looked back up into his eyes, praying to Merlin that he understood. "She's not the right gender." 

Confusion creased his brow, "What do you mean she's the wrong gender, I don't follow…" 

I took another breath and stopped my shaking hands, "Harry, I'm gay." His eyes turned into saucers and I thought his chin was going to hit the table. I muttered a curse to myself and looked back down. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, I just... I wasn't really ready and I didn't know how to bring it up. Please don't hate me. I'm sorry." 

I glanced up at him through my eyelashes. His mouth had closed and his eyes had returned to their normal size, but he seemed to be very uncomfortable, squirming in his chair. "I… I don't know what to say… You're not telling me this because you…" 

I cut him off with a hand flung into the thickened air between us, "NO, I'm _not_ attracted to you. Don't worry. I just wanted you to know because… well… I guess it's just something I thought you'd want to know." 

"It is, but… Merlin." 

I looked down again, "It's ok, if knowing this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to hang around me anymore. I just wanted you to know because you're my friend and you're always telling me to tell you the truth. I'm sorry." 

"No, Ron, it's ok, it's just… It's a bit of a shock, you know? Here I was thinking you were bonkers for Hermione and I was completely wrong. You'll have to give me a minute to wrap my brain around it." 

"Take your time. But can I get my essay back or is it being held for ransom?" He looked down at it and then grinned and handed it back. I returned the smile and went back to my homework, glancing up at him occasionally. He was starring off at a group of third-years playing chess by the fire. An half an hour passed between us in companionable silence. 

"How long have you known?" I was startled to hear his voice, not expecting to hear it again until it was time to go to bed. I set my quill down and sat back in my chair. 

"I started getting inclinations last summer." 

"And it took you this long to tell me? Why?" 

"I didn't know how you'd react and I wasn't really sure of it. I hadn't been with anyone, but I knew I was attracted to boys. It was kind of like I knew it, but I wasn't ready to believe it yet, you know what I mean?" 

He nodded and began ripping up a blundered astronomy chart distractedly. "Have you.. Have you um… Have you been with anyone since you… you know, since you figured it out?" 

I looked down at my hands, a bit in shock, not expecting the question. I didn't think he would want to know, but then it did make sense. He was my best mate and we always talked about girls. Why should this be all that different? But could I tell him the truth, that I was shagging his second worst enemy? And what about Draco? He would burn me at the stake as soon as he got wind of anyone knowing that wasn't either of us. I had to keep the tryst secret, there was no other option. Even if Harry was accepting of my sexuality, there was no way that he could possibly accept my disjointed relationship with Malfoy. Bugger, I could barely accept it. "No. I don't really feel comfortable with asking anyone… I wouldn't even ask girls out properly, and I knew they were at least interested in my gender. How am I supposed to ask a guy? How many awkward situations could that turn into?" 

"Very true. Anyone you're interested in, though? Maybe we could ask around, see if they might be interested… in purely hypothetical terms, of course." 

I smirked. I couldn't help myself. The only name that came to mind was Malfoy and Harry would not have been pleased. "There are a few, but I already know that they're straight." 

"Right, there aren't many open guys at Hogwarts, are there?" 

"No, and if it's alright, I'd like to remain… closed. If that makes sense." 

"Closed from what?" came Hermione's voice from behind me. Panic rushed through me and rendered me unable to form a coherent response, let alone open my mouth to give it. Harry must have sensed this because he turned to her with a smile as she sat down to my right and dropped a stack of books on the table. 

"Fred and George sent him a package of samples and some order forms to pass out for the shop." Good one, Harry. Much better than what would have come blubbering out of my mouth. 

"Well, you can't do that, you know that. Not as a prefect. I can't believe they would try such a stunt, they aren't even here anymore and they're still trying to cause mischief. You sent it back, right?" She looked absolutely scandalized and I nearly exploded with laughter in relief. 

"Most of it. Thought I'd slip a few things into Malfoys bag during potions. Wouldn't mind seeing his ears turn purple and grow to the size of his head." Hermione just rolled her eyes and opened a book, asking us what we thought of the rumor about Snape sleeping with Millicent Bagnold. 

- October 15 - 1997 - Seventh Year -

Breakfast was a peculiar bit of wasted eggs and fleeting glances. I hadn't had much sleep the night before, my mind whirling with the same images that had haunted me all week of him and his possible partners. Harry had to drag me to the shower and then turn the cold water on me while I was still fully dressed in order to wake me up. When I got back from the shower, Pig had left a 'present' on my pillow along with a letter back from the twins that exploded into tiny spiders in my hands as soon as I'd finished it. Thankfully they disappeared into thin air, but only after I'd nearly wet myself in fright. I'd been stabbing at my biscuits for a good while, eating very little because of my foul mood. Hermione had already stopped asking what was wrong, knowing I wasn't going to answer; but Harry kept poking me every few minutes to get me to perk up. 

It was one of those pokes that caused me to look up just as Malfoy walked into the Great Hall. Normally, I would have only looked him over and turned back to breakfast. I hadn't really acknowledged his presence in over a week, the memory of that bloody mark still burning in my mind every time I looked at him, but that day was different. He didn't walk in alone. Pansy Parkinson was clinging to his hand and grinning as though You-Know-Who had triumphed over Harry or something (not that he's going to, the bloody bastard). When they sat down together, she turned and kissed him right on the lips, tongue and everything. I could see the smirk on his lips as he returned it, his eyes not closed, not watching her, but glued to mine the entire time. My brain was yelling curses at me to look away, but I couldn't, not until she pulled away and began to eat, her hand still hidden in his lap underneath the table. 

I immediately looked back at my food, felt sick, and shoved the plate away. Hermione turned to me with concern and felt my forehead. "Are you alright, Ron? It's not like you to not finish your plate. Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?" 

I shook my head, "No, I'm fine, I'm just not in the best mood. Bad morning." 

"And he didn't sleep last night." 

My head shot over to Harry, "How do you know I didn't sleep last night?" 

He stole a bite of my forgotten eggs and frowned at me, "I could hear you tossing and turning all night. And you didn't say a word." 

"What do you mean I didn't say a word?" I didn't give him a chance to respond before another thought came to my mind, "Did you not sleep either?" 

He shook his head and took another bite from my plate, "I had another dream and I decided it would be better if I just stayed up." I felt relief at his response because all conversation was focused on him and not me, but then furrowed my brow. Why hadn't I heard him wake? I sighed and rubbed my eyes, realizing that maybe this whole mess with Malfoy was more of a problem than I thought it would be. 


	4. The Depravity of Professor Binns

A/N: thank you all once more for the lovely reviews. especially to skep for the 'fowl/foul' correction. i had foul in the first place, but then second-guessed myself. if you (or anyone else for that matter) find anything else wrong with the text, please let me know. spelling and grammar are incredibly importantant to me. i don't read a story if i find either in the first three paragraphs. 

-also, don't know if you noticed, but i'm not british, no matter how much i'd like to be (which is a whole whole lot, i hate america with a passion). so if some of the terms i use are not up-to-date or are used incorrectly, please let me know and i will change them. thank you :) 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- 

- January 20 - 1997 - Sixth Year -

I had fallen asleep in Muggle Studies and no one had bothered to wake me up. Scared that I would be late for Defense Against the Dark Arts, I was running down the fifth floor corridor, not paying attention to where I was going, too worried about being late, when I ran straight into a suit of arms. I fell face-first onto the ground and let out a cry of pain at my throbbing knee. My bag had fallen open and half a dozen items were scattered across the floor like so many pebbles on a beach. Frustrated, ignoring the huffs of the affronted coat of arms and the pain in my knee, I scrambled to collect my belongings. My mind was whirling with a million excuses as to why I was late, falling asleep in Muggle Studies being insufficient to earn me anything but a deduction of House points, when that voice came languidly into my ears from above. 

"Well, well, well, look what we've got here." 

I looked up to give him a scathing glare as I struggled to fit the items back in my bag, "Sod off, Malfoy. I'm in a hurry." 

"In a hurry, are we? I'd say you're already about three minutes late. No point in even going, really, if you ask me." 

I stood cautiously to see him preening his nails with a bored expression masking the glint of a grin in his eyes. "Lovely for you, I don't have time to chat right now, though. I have to go." I tried to push passed him, but his hand shot out with reflexes that told me his father's brooms weren't the only reasons he was the Slytherin Seeker. 

His fingers coiled around my robes as he shoved me against the wall, his face mere centimeters from mine. "You don't talk to me like that. You will listen or I will Make. You. Listen. Understand?" 

My eyes were focused on those lips that I wanted to kiss more than anything else in the world, but I knew he would get even angrier if I touched him in an even remotely sexual manner in an open hallway. "I'm listening." 

"You will forget about whatever useless class you are hurrying off to because you are already late and there is no longer a point in going. Instead, you will meet me behind the tapestry in five minutes. If you are not there, I can not describe to you the sorts of torture I will put you through. Do we understand each other?" I had held my breath throughout his entire speech and now nodded in response, taking in a single needed breath before he let me go and continued down the hallway. I watched him glide away, proud and as though he possessed the most powerful gift in the wizarding world and was not interested in sharing. It had been two weeks and I had to fight the lustful need rising inside of me to go after him and take him right there in the middle of the hallway. I righted myself and turned down the opposite corridor, finding an alternative route to our secret room. 

He was sitting in his usual chair with one ankle propped on the opposite knee and his hands folded neatly in his lap. He hadn't heard me come in, and his eyes were transfixed on the golden blaze, his brow slightly curled into a scowl, and I could see the thoughts milling about in his mind. I momentarily wondered what they looked like, what went on inside of his sadistic brain. Was he thinking of me? Perhaps his father? The Dark Mark I suspected he would soon receive? I made my way towards him quietly, hoping to catch him still in that reverie, but the sound of my bag being deposited near the door alerted him to my presence and he turned to me. The look changed. I'd like to say that it softened, but that wasn't exactly true. His lips curled into a smirk, but those eyes, those gleams of grey that always caught me in shocked wonder, they were dark with something unspeakable, and almost… despair. As though he was slowly dying with every moment passed and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

He stood and met me in the middle of the room, not bothering with a greeting as he began removing my robes and then my shirt. I watched him, watching his eyes dart over my clothing, avoiding my glance. He had begun to pull my shirt out of my pants to get at the final few buttons when his eyes accidentally caught mine and I took my chance, leaning in to capture his lips. His hands stalled and it was like the entire world had stopped as our tongues melded into each other. I reveled in him, in the feeling of him that I had been anticipating every moment since our last meeting. I was so lost in his mouth that I didn't notice that he had managed to strip me to my boxers and was surprised to see that my hands had made quick work of his clothing as well, until we were both down to nearly nothing and clinging to each other, trading nips and tugs and scratches as we struggled to the floor. 

He was nestled between my legs and pulling at my boxers, my nipple encircled by his teeth. I barely had time to whisper a lubrication spell before he was inside and pushing against me with this strength, almost anger. I moaned and closed my eyes, arching into him. He leaned over me and pressed his lips to mine, growling into my mouth as my fingernails trailed down his back. He trailed kisses down my neck and nibbled on my collar bone, and my head dropped back into the carpet. My eyes were closed and all I could think about was how much I had missed his touch, even as his teeth sunk into my shoulder enough to draw blood. I moaned his name and a string of thoughtless phrases, but I was so lost in the way each thrust made me swoon in ecstasy to realize what I was saying until it was too late. 

He pulled abruptly away from me with a look of disgust, wiping my blood from his lips. "What did you just say?" 

I was shocked to be without him so suddenly and just looked at him in stunned silence for a moment. "I.. I.. I don't know… What did I say?" I stuttered, trying fruitlessly to regain my composure and sit up. I felt like a puppy that had just been abandoned by its owner with no alternative shelter. 

"You said you loved me." His voice was bitter ice and his eyes glared at me with a frigid anger that made me shiver. 

"I… I did? I… I didn't realize… I was kind of… lost in the… moment…" I looked away, down, anywhere but those eyes. 

"This is not love, Weasel. This is fucking. Do you understand the difference?" His voice maintained its icy tone and he spoke slowly, as though I were a child. 

I growled, "I know that! I'm not stupid, Ferret-face! Do you actually think I would be stupid enough to fall for a cruel, sadistic, spoiled git like you? Don't flatter yourself. I wouldn't bother." I stood, frustrated, and began to pull my clothing back on. 

He just sat back on his knees and watched me coldly as I pulled on my boxers and then my pants. When I reached for my shirt, he pulled it out of my reach and grabbed onto my arm. "Where do you think you're going? I never said you could leave, yet. Get your pants back off, we aren't done yet." 

I glared at him, "If you think for one minute that I'm going to continue sleeping with you when you think that I would be nutters enough to fall in love with your, you've got-" 

"Oh sod off." He pushed me onto my back on the floor and crawled over me to strip me of my pants and boxers once more. I tried to protest but he grabbed his wand and put a binding spell on my hands to stop their fighting. When I was naked once more, he turned me onto my stomach and thrust so hard into me that the wind was momentarily knocked out of me. A few thrusts later, he pulled me up on my knees and wrapped an arm around my neck to pull me into his chest. He continued to move as his mouth came next to my ear and he hissed, "If you ever even consider leaving me without finishing again, I will not hesitate to 'Crucio' you, and don't think I haven't learned how." I didn't doubt that he knew how, knew that he had been trained by the Deatheaters to perform all sorts of torture and death, knew he was expected to join the ranks if his father remained in jail. I would have said so, but his arm was restricting my breathing and his nails had clawed into my shoulder to keep me with him as he continued to thrust into me. I could only nod my understanding, grasping for precious breath. 

His grip lessoned and his lips attached to my neck. I closed my eyes and let my head rest on his shoulder, giving into him as I neared orgasm. A few more movements and I teetered over the edge, my seed spilling out onto the carpet. A few more and he let out a loud moan as his orgasm followed. We leaned against each other as our heartbeats settled. He pulled away eventually and released the bindings on my wrists as he stood. I rubbed at a wrist thoughtlessly as I watched him go over, mumble an incantation that elongated his chair into a comfortable couch, and fall onto it with careless grace. His eyes closed as he let out an exhausted sigh, looking as though he were going to fall asleep. "Come here," his voice called out, his eyes remaining shut as he turned onto his back. I did as I was told, slipping onto the couch next to him and curling into his side with my cheek pressed against his chest. His fingers languidly played with my hair as I shut my eyes, drunk on his scent of sex and sweat and some cologne that probably cost more than my father made in a month. I drifted off just as his arms wrapped comfortably around me, pulling me closer to him. We didn't wake up until just before dinner. 

- October 7/8 - 1997 - Seventh Year -

I lay in bed for hours, starring up at the curtains, lost in indecision. Was it worth it? Was he worth it? The way I felt when I was with him was a muddled mess of scents, touches, and impossible feelings of love and hate. Not real love, not the kind you would die for, not what I felt for family, for Harry, for Hermione. No, it was that intoxicating passion that possessed no stopping point. Irritation that was irresistible, tingling, electric. He made me feel more alive than any adventure with Harry or the twins ever did, more than any Quidditch match either. Pure need, desire, frustration, pain, anguish, and yet, tender care. The situation was impossible. He was impossible. 

And yet it had been a year. An entire bloody year of violent rendezvous behind the tapestry. It was almost unbelievable. And I was brought back around to the beginning of my thoughts. Was it worth it, all that time? Had I been wasting hours, days, of sleep, peace, class? Was all that I sacrificed overturned by the feeling of it? Of us? 

Around 1:30 I came to a decision. Neville and Seamus had been snoring loudly for over an hour and Harry had just begun to whimper in his sleep when I climbed soundlessly out of bed. I snuck to his trunk, poked around until it was in my hands, and then slipped away into nothing as I left the dorm. He would be gone, but there would be a fire and the couch pillows would smell of his shampoo. And so I made the trek down five flights of stairs and ten empty hallways to the wall where the ancient bit of clothe hung. I checked the passage before slipping behind it and down stairs only to halt at the last cold stone step. For the smallest of moments my heart had ceased beating and breath had left my body. I knew without a moment's revolt that this was it, the thing, the real thing. It wasn't what poets spoke of or paintings depicted, but it was tangible and it was ours. 

His white blonde hair hung in loose strands across his closed eyes, his cheek slumped against the side of the chair. He wore baggy pajamas pants, a Slytherin sweater, and no shoes. Chocolate-covered strawberries were melting in a bowl on the table in front of the fire. I crept to his chair, still under the cloak, but not wanting to wake him. He made a tiny noise as I brushed the hair from his forehead and kissed the exposed skin, letting the cloak slip just a little. 

As I moved to kiss his cheek, I could see a mark on the side of his neck, peeking out just above the neckline of the sweater, a mark I knew I had not made. I pulled away and stood back to contemplate him. It was true, he had been with the pug-faced Pansy Parkinson. I wondered how long it had been going on, how many others he was spending time with as well. I felt again that pang, that hopelessness. I turned to the table and picked up a strawberry, careful not to get the softened chocolate on Harry's cloak, and began eating it as I walked to the door. One last look at his sleeping form and I turned my back on him, promising myself that I would not allow him to persuade me into his arms and that room again. 

- October 20 - 1997 - Seventh Year -

What was a bad morning was turning into a bad week. I failed an important Muggle Studies test, which was ironic because I only took Muggle Studies as a blow off class to replace Advanced Potions, which I didn't get into, thank Merlin. Peeves apparently had chosen me to torment all week because every time I turned around, there he was, making the loo explode when I flushed or pulling my robes up over my head from behind. Nearly Headless Nick finally took pity on me after a particularly hideous incident involving a bowl of mashed potatoes and Harry's cousin's socks that I'd really rather never think about again, and got the Bloody Baron to call him off. I accidentally, and I stress ACCIDENTALLY, made a rude comment about Hermione's new boyfriend looking a bit like Neville's toad, and she had spent the rest of the week hulled up in the library, ignoring anything I tried to say as way of apology. It really wasn't my fault, though, that she was dating a male version of Umbridge. If she was going to be so sensitive about the bastard, she shouldn't have let me meet him. She knows how I am with the people she dates, she's like my sister, and I want anyone Ginny dates dead. 

So, anyways, I was having problems all week, and to top it all off, this thing that was going on between Malfoy and the human dog looked like it was going to become rather regular, much to my chagrin. At least I knew that he was only doing it in order to make me jealous. We were in History of Magic, and Professor Binns was lecturing about something so boring that even Hermione seemed to have tuned him out. I was leaning over the desk with my chin in my hand, about to doze off when movement across the classroom caught my eyes and I looked over to see someone's hand creeping under a girl's robes and into her skirt. I looked higher to see who it was and locked eyes with him. He was leaned back as far as he could be in his chair with that self-satisfied smirk that always drove me completely insane, and his eyes were glinting with obvious pleasure at seeing me notice what he was doing. As his hand moved around in Pansy's underwear, it became very obvious what he was doing to her. _Her_, with her head tossed back and a grin hidden under a forced look of concentration, looking as utterly canine as usual. I wanted to strangle that podgy neck of hers, dotted with pink bruises of varying sizes, undoubtedly won from him in order to make me more incensed than I already was. I glanced down to see his hand moving a bit faster and her legs twitching about as though she was becoming uncontrollable under his touch. I knew what that felt like, dreamt about it, wanted it back again so badly I would have sold my soul; but I was not about to let him know I felt anything of the sort, so I looked back up at him and sneered. His smirk only widened as his eyes danced at mine. I growled under my breath, gaining a look from Harry, and tried to focus on doodling to take my mind off of what Malfoy's fingers were playing at in Parkinson's skirt. 

"Alright there, mate?" Harry whispered, leaning into me. I glanced up, my eyes catching Malfoy's and locking before I even had the chance to look at Harry. I only growled again and looked back down. 

"I'm fine, just disgusted. When is this class going to end?" I whispered back, starting to draw a picture of Malfoy swinging from a gallows with a vulture pecking at his eyes. Harry must have noticed what I'd been looking at because the next thing I heard was a horrified intake of breath. 

"Is Malfoy seriously doing what I think he's doing to Pansy Parkinson?" He hissed at me, gripping my arm in disbelief. I didn't dare glance up, knowing that I would just get caught up in those eyes again and want to throw something, preferably him, against a wall. 

"Looks like it." 

"Oh Merlin, I think he's doing it just to make us squirm. He's looking right over." 

Again, my eyes remained on the parchment I was defiling with Malfoy's swinging corpse, "Probably thinks we're going to be jealous of him getting action over us." 

Harry gave a muffled snort under his hand, "As though anyone could be jealous of fucking Pansy 'Pug-faced' Parkinson. Oh Merlin, I think she's going to return the favor. I don't know if I can keep my breakfast much longer." My eyes shot up at his words and I was not by any means pleased with the site I was given. Draco had removed his hand from a very pleased looking Pansy's skirt and was now relaxing as her hand crept slowly through his open robes and over his groin, looking as though it were about to unzip his pants. Malfoy's smirk had widened even more as my eyes connected with his and I suddenly forgot how to breathe. I could not believe I was watching this transpire. I had to look down, I had to look down. Why wasn't I looking down? His tongue broke the seal of his smirk and rolled sensually over his top lip, reminding me of other moments when that tongue was licking my come off those same lips. I felt my heart jump into my throat and my lower regions twitched in agony. 

Harry's grip on my hand tightened as her fingers slid down the zipper and delved inside the shadows of his boxers. I wanted to climb over the desks and pull her out of her seat by her hair, throw her against the wall, and yell at her to keep her hands off of what did not belong to her. I wanted to cut that claw-like hand off and serve it to her in a meat pie. I wanted to shout at him for letting such a filthy _cow_ sodden him with such vulgarities. My leg began to shake anxiously and my hand clenched and unclenched as though in preparation of throttling her. 

It was only Harry's whisper in my ear that brought me back to the reality of the classroom, and I almost kissed him for the distraction. "Don't look over there anymore, it's disgusting. When is class going to end? I can't stand this anymore." 

I nodded in agreement and looked back at my paper to continue my drawing of Malfoy's untimely demise. The minutes crawled along as though time itself was in on Malfoy's game to destroy my sanity and make me beg for him. I managed to fend off my desires to look at him until the bell sounded to allow my freedom from this horrific torture. He gave me a salacious grin and indicated more than a few unspeakable acts with his eyes. I tried to hide a gulp as I tore my eyes away and gathered my things to leave with Hermione and Harry. 

"That was depraved. I can't believe that Malfoy could stoop so low, just to get a rise out of us. I'm going to be doing scouring charms on my eyes for weeks." I looked at the paintings on the passing walls as we headed for the Great Hall for lunch, trying not to think about the visions Draco's smile had manifested in my head. 

Hermione gave Harry a look to say that she thought he had officially flipped over his rocker, "What are you on about? I know you don't like Professor Binns, but I highly doubt that any lecture he gives could be labeled as depraved." 

Harry scowled at her and shook his head, "I wasn't talking about Professor Binns! I was talking about what Malfoy and Pug-face were doing across the room from us. Were you asleep the _entire_ time?" 

"Yes, well, I was up last night doing my arithmancy homework. What were they doing?" 

"Wanking each other off under the desk. And Malfoy was watching us the entire time, like he was doing it just to see us squirm. It was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen in my life; wouldn't you say so, Ron?" 

Hermione looked appalled and put a hand to her mouth as she gasped. I glanced up at Harry and nodded, not really listening to the conversation, my mind still wrapped around Malfoy's tongue playing fiercely in my mouth. 

"He was actually looking over at us? Did anyone else see? That's disgusting even for Malfoy." 

"Nothing's too disgusting for Malfoy," I muttered, my mind still not in the moment. They both looked at me and Harry snorted. 

"That's true. But still… and right before lunch! Bugger!" He continued to go on about the lewd behavior of such miscreants, but I stopped listening, being instead mesmerized by the bright gleam of said miscreant's eyes across the hall. I don't think I said a word all of lunch. 


	5. Exhaustian and Chocolate Frogs

A/N: thank you for the reviews, they certainly made me feel a bit better about this story. 

this is a small update because, even though i've written a lot, i'm not ready to post it yet because i want to have more of a lead-in to what's going on first. i'm going to be working a lot more on this as soon as finals are over (in exactly a week and a half, holy jesus, i'm fucked). 

as a side note, the first section of this chapter is my favorite part of the story so far and (hem, hem) ficticiously occurred on my 12th birthday. :) 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- 

- March 19 - 1997 - Sixth Year--

I was exhausted and practically sleeping in my porridge. Hermione kept poking me every few minutes to make sure my chin didn't fall into the bowl, and her pokes were causing me to jerk to attention and draw the eyes of everyone near me. I had been up late with Malfoy, and, as soon as I got my pajamas on back in the dorms, screams rang out from behind Harry's curtains. I stayed up until at least five in the morning trying to assure him that You-Know-Who was not eating Muggle babies for amusement. The dreams had been getting worse and it was becoming harder to convince Harry to go back to sleep. I was beginning to wish the Dark Lord dead simply so that I could get some sleep. Harry was more exhausted than I was, if that was even possible, and he was shamelessly sleeping on my shoulder, disregarding all the shagging jokes Seamus was throwing our way. 

"Ron, Harry, wake up, we've got History of Magic. You're going to be late." Hermione was shaking me, and subsequently Harry and he lifted his head up with a grumbled 'fuck off' before dropping it back to my shoulder. 

I sighed and started to get up, forcing him to grudgingly sit up as well. "Come on, Harry, we can sleep through the Elvin Independence Movement. Binns won't even notice." He grunted in response and stood as well; and we stumbled off to Binns' classroom, Hermione tutting at us the whole way. 

Half-way through the lesson, I woke with a start to something hitting my head. I looked around and saw Malfoy smirking at me with an evil glint as he pointed across the aisle to my desk. I found a piece of crumpled parchment on top of my book. Hermione was taking fervent notes on everything Binns said and Harry was drooling on his parchment. My eyes flicked back to Malfoy before smoothing the note. Inside was a drawing of two boys shagging, charmed to move in thrusts, and below it in his neat scrawl, "Did I tire you out, Weasel?" 

I sneered up at him, then wrote below, 'Not at all. Harry kept me up until 5,' before throwing it back at him. His eyes narrowed as he read it and by the time they met mine again, I could tell that he was livid. I only smirked and put my head back on my book to continue sleeping. The parchment hit me again, but I only grabbed it without reading. 

At lunch I put a few sandwiches in a napkin and asked Dean to wake me up when he went to get his books before class, planning to take a nap in the dorms. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your perspective), I did not make it to my bed. Somewhere between the Great Hall and the Fat Lady, my robes were grabbed and I was forced against a wall. My brain was still working at a minimum, and so my only thought was that I dropped the sandwiches. "What, Malfoy? I'm exhausted and now I have to go down to the kitchens." 

He slammed me harder against the wall, only succeeding in making me more light-headed. "What were you doing with Potter until 5 in the morning?" he hissed at me, fire practically spilling from his pores. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Another slam. How I managed cheek in my mental state I'll never know. 

"That is not an appropriate answer." 

I sighed and rubbed my eye, yawning, ignoring his grip on my throat, "He had a nightmare. I was trying to convince him to go back to sleep." 

"You better not be lying." 

"I'm too tired to lie. Now let me go, if I get something from the house elves now, I can still get half an hour before charms." 

That gained me another slam. "You do not speak to me that way." 

"Beat me, why don't you? In fact, render me unconscious, I could use the bed rest." There was a period of silence and I began to nod off. He must have noticed because he let go of me. Without his support, I staggered a bit; then gave him a sleepy glare that bordered on pathetic before heading down the hall towards the kitchens. He stopped me again when I had almost made it to the stairs, "What?" 

Before I could think, he pinned me against the wall and raped my mouth with his tongue. I moaned, unable to hold anything back from the fog, and grabbed onto his arm to steady myself. He pressed something into my hand before pulling away and licking my lips, "Get some sleep. I expect you at the tapestry at midnight." With that he walked away and I was left to stare at the three chocolate frogs in my hand in hazy shock. I watched his back disappear around a corner before turning to make my way up to Gryffindor. By the time I stumbled into the dorm, the bell was ringing. 

- December - 1996 - Sixth Year -

It had snowed the night before, cold, brilliant flakes of pure crystals. He stood at the lake, half frozen over, and his black robes were almost a blinding contrast to the pristine blanket of white. I had been on my way to Hagrid's, but somehow got lost between the castle and his forlorn figure. I fought internally for a long time as to whether I should go to him and risk beratement, or stay in place and risk being noticed by him. I finally decided I wasn't going to be able to concentrate if I did not talk to him, so I made my way slowly over, the only sound the crunching of snow beneath my boots. He was glaring before he even finished turning to see his intruder. 

"What do you want, Weasel?" My name was spat in distain, but it didn't deter me from going to stand next to him. 

"Thought I'd come down and see the lake. The snow makes it look like a barren wasteland, like Siberia, or something, you know?" 

"Except for the forest and the castle, yes, I can see it, extremely barren." He rolled his eyes at me. 

I sighed and peered out across the ice, "You know, Malfoy, we're alone and we've been fucking for six months now, I think you can relax on being a prat a bit once in a while, don't you?" He looked livid and about to beat me into a hospital bed, but I held ground and looked him in the eye, sliding my hand into his. "Don't. Just this once. You can beat me all the way to Pomfrey later, but for now, can we not?" 

His mouth hung open in an undignified, very un-Malfoy way for a minute, but then he looked down at our clasped hands in confusion, "You're wearing mittens." 

I smiled, "That I am. Can Italian leather not touch mittens?" 

"Malfoys can't touch Weasleys, but apparently I'm making an exception, so why not?" He looked off onto the lake again and so did I, stepping a few inches closer so that our shoulders touched. He didn't indicate that he minded and we stood in companionable silence for a while. Then his voice broke through the silence impatiently, as though he'd been wanting to speak for some time, "Mittens? Honestly, who wears mittens anymore?" 

"Weasleys do. Ginny and the twins have them and I think Bill still has a pair. Charlie's got scorched, and Percy refuses to wear them. Said they made him look silly." 

"I rather agree with him, they do make you look silly." I chose to ignore him. After a minute, he put his other hand to his mouth in horror, "Did I just say I agreed with a Weasley? And the obviously mental one at that? Sweet Lord…" 

I let out a laugh and nudged him, "Not so bad, are we? Maybe I'm rubbing off on you just a bit." 

His eyes narrowed at me, "The only thing you're rubbing is my cock. I still think your family is nothing but filthy muggle-lovers." 

"Hey, no insults, remember? We're being peaceful for once." 

"Why should I want to be peaceful to you?" 

"Because otherwise I won't put out and you've got no one here but Harry and a few Hufflepuffs to turn to all Christmas break." 

He gave me a scathing glare, but then relaxed and looked towards the lake again. We fell back to silence and I concentrated on his hand in mine. To my surprise, he was shaking ever so slightly. "Draco, how long have you been out here?" 

"An hour or so." 

"You're cold, let's go inside." 

"I'm not cold." 

"You're cold, I can feel you shivering. Come inside with me." 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I'd rather stay here." 

"We can get some hot chocolate from the kitchens and get the house elves to start a fire. Maybe warm each other up?" I turned to face him and traced a finger of my free hand down his chest to his stomach beneath his robes. 

His eyes followed my finger, "Are we stopping this peace bullocks?" 

"As long as you don't spill the hot chocolate." 

"Oh, I'll spill it alright. All over you." His voice had gained that sexual challenge again as he stepped into the space between us and pressed his mouth to my ear, "And then I'll lick it off." 

I closed my eyes as a shiver of anticipation ran through me. 

"Alright." I turned my head slightly and captured his lips, my mouth opening to allow his tongue entrance as his arms encircled my waist. I momentarily lost my breath when he pulled away, and had to consciously steady myself in his absence. 

"Twenty minutes. You go to the kitchens." He turned and headed back to the castle, his cocky stride unhindered by the snow. I watched until he disappeared through the front entrance before following, Hagrid completely forgotten. 


	6. The Mark and the White King

A/N: thank you for the reviews, they were amusing and they certainly helped motivate me :) 

i've decided to either post a chronology chart so the passages are less confusing or to move everything around so it reads in chronological order. would you guys like that better? for now, here's the chart: 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 6.2 -- 

does that make things clearer? i hope so. 

- February 10 - Sixth Year - 1997 -

Harry and I were walking back from Quidditch when he passed by and deliberately shoved into my shoulder. Our eyes met for a second and there was a flash of something unrecognizable in him that scared me. I would have shoved him back if it weren't for that look. I turned to hear Harry mutter some sort of insult at him, but I didn't catch it and was too busy thinking about what was wrong to listen to his spitting reply. I touched a hand to Harry's wrist to call him off and he continued down the hall with me with a scowl. "What's his problem? He couldn't just walk passed, he had to say something." 

"He's Malfoy, it's in his blood." 

"Doesn't change that fact that it's obnoxious." 

"Pretty sure that's the point." He huffed but didn't respond. We fell into silence that remained until we entered the common room. Harry stayed down to talk to Hermione, but I went up to the dorm to change. I wanted to send Pig after Malfoy to find out what was wrong, even though I knew he probably wouldn't tell me. When I reached my bed, there was a box on my pillow wrapped in silver paper and I picked it up. Underneath was a bit of parchment that only read 'midnight'. Right, I wouldn't have to send Pig. I sat on the edge of my bed and opened the box to find a beautifully-carved white King chessman. He eyed me suspiciously, then folded his arms over his chest as I looked him over. He must have really done something wrong if he was giving me the King. It had only been pawns before then, two white and three black. I smiled to myself as I looked him over once more before tucking him in the box and putting it in the trunk under my dress robes to join the other boxes. I changed into pajamas bottoms and a t-shirt, grabbed a few books, and headed back down to feign homework. 

My fingers played an invisible piano as I walked silently down the last hallway, eyes darting from corner to corner to make sure that Mrs. Norris would not see me and alert Filch to my whereabouts. Draco would be angry with me and the chess piece told me there was already something wrong. With one final dart of the eye, I slipped behind the ancient clothe and descended the stairs to wait for him. The fire was roaring and lit the room, a warm glow that made me feel comforted after walking through hallway after hallway of cold stone. I slid easily into my chair, pulled my feet up, and rested my chin on my knee so that I could watch the door. 

He was earlier than usual, still late, but I did not have to wait nearly as long. His sneer was in place even as he looked at me, and I could see that the unrecognizable gleam had not left his eyes. I watched him cross to the table and take a strawberry. "Strip," he spat at me before biting into the fruit. I stared at him, but didn't move. His sneer deepened, "Are you deaf? I said strip." 

I lifted my chin from my knee and studied him carefully, still not moving to stand. "What's wrong?" 

The anger flared, "What? Shut up, I said strip, not talk! Do I have to do it for you?" He pulled me out of my chair by a fistful of hair and I had to clench my fist to keep from moaning in pain. He let go of my hair and glared at me in a look that told me if I did not do what he wanted, I would leave with a few broken bones along with the bruising. I sighed and pulled my sweater over my head along with my t-shirt, dropping them to the floor before pulling off my pants. He glanced me over with a studious eye before nodding to himself, "Good, very good." He offered me a bite of the strawberry and I took it cautiously, watching him as I chewed. 

I had barely swallowed when I was wrapped up in him and fighting for purchase against his tongue. Once steadied against the onslaught, I began to tug at his clothing, wanting to feel his bare skin against mine. I went first for his sweater, but he growled into my mouth for me to leave it. Confused, I moved my hands down to his slacks and fumbled with the belt for a few moments before letting them slide down his hips and puddle at his feet. He stepped out of them and turned us around so that he could sit in the chair and pull me into his lap. We continued to kiss and I melted into him, lost in that feeling of ecstasy I always got when in his arms. Soon it wasn't enough and I slid down off of the chair to my knees in front of him. He watched me behind hooded lids and his fingers played in my hair as I took him in my mouth. I hardened him and coated him with my saliva, not wanting the soreness I had left our last encounter with. Before long he tugged on my hair and dragged me back into his lap, pulling my face down for a kiss as he slid into me. I groaned loudly and pressed down onto him, wanting more, so much more. I wanted to rip myself open so that he could crawl inside and be that much closer. I wanted to stay like that, bodies melded together, for the rest of our lives, never separating, constantly living with that feeling of being completely full of him. We moved together in rushed, frantic motions and he scratched at my back with his nails and I could feel the blood oozing from the wounds he'd left, but I didn't care. I held onto him and I was murmuring viciously, unspeakably naughty things in his ear amid groans and grunts and yells of passion. Wool scratched against my skin and I fought him to rip it off, finally succeeding when I hit a particularly sensitive spot and he leaned back in a moan of pleasure. My senses were heightened even more as our heated skin pressed together and I licked and nipped at his collar bone as he shoved harder into me. We writhed and moaned and screamed as one and soon liquid was everywhere, inside me, splayed across our stomachs, on our thighs. 

Spent, I curled into him, not moving to let him out, and he wrapped his arms around me, rested his cheek in my forehead. We sat there for a while, both panting and fighting for calm. His fingertips lightly traced my spine and I shivered at the pleasurable contact. After a bit of relaxed silence, I remembered the chessman and lifted my head to look at him. The glint had disappeared during our passion, but it was back now, and I furrowed my brow as I ran fingers through his hair, "What's wrong? Something's different…" 

He avoided my eyes, "Hand me a strawberry, will you?" 

I reached for the table, not leaving his lap, and snatched the bowl up. He took one from it and lifted it to his mouth and I froze. I felt the color drain from my face and my body went into a cold sweat as I stumbled off of his lap and backed away a bit, starring at his arm in utter shock. He ignored me and ate the strawberry as though nothing were wrong, nothing black and putrid and evil were etched in raised, angry patterns on his forearm. "Draco…" The words escaped me as fear and panic descended upon me. He ate another strawberry and didn't look at me. I closed my eyes and tried to gather words enough to form a coherent sentence. This was wrong; this was not supposed to happen. He was mine, no matter how horrible he was to me. He was not his father's or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's, he was mine. And now he was marred and mangled in a way that spoke of his possession by another. I sneered in disgust, finally pulling words together in a harsh whisper, "How could you?" 

He snorted, a sound I never thought I would hear come from his lips. "How could I not? Just because I'm fucking you, that doesn't mean that my priorities have changed. I'm a Malfoy and this has been planned and expected since my birth." 

"But, Draco… what about us? What's he going to do to you when he finds out?" My heart sank at the thought of him being tortured and mutilated at the hands of that monster. 

"What are you talking about? He won't find out. There isn't an 'us' to find out about." He still hadn't looked at me and I knew then that he had thought the same thing, but was not going to admit to me that he feared anything related to the Dark Lord. 

I slid to my knees in front of him and made him look at me, "Relationship or not, we're still sleeping together, and He does not look kindly on homosexuals. You know that. He'll have you tortured and killed if he even has an inclination about this. How could you put yourself in danger like that?" 

He glared at me, "And what do you think he would do if I refused loyalty to him? I've been anticipating this and training for this my entire life. You think it wouldn't be suspicious if I suddenly didn't go through with it?" 

He was right, of course, but it didn't stop the sinking feeling in my stomach or the anger mulling about in my head. I lifted up so that I was eye level with him and gritted my teeth, "If you die because of this, I swear to Merlin after you're buried, I'll dig you up, piss on your corpse, and leave you out for the vultures to peck at." 

He studied me for a long moment, eyes glistening with something that almost looked like tears, but then he leaned in and captured my lips, pulling me back up into his lap. The second time was different than any encounter I had ever had with him. He was slow, methodical, soothing. His kisses were like honey and his touch was gentle and massaging. He did not use his nails or nip at my skin, but licked and kissed and caressed, and our rhythm was languid and relaxed, not the harsh, frantic speed I was used to. This new experience, almost akin to love-making, was the most amazing sensation I had ever felt. Every inch of my body tingled and purred at his touch. Afterward, I fell against him and nuzzled his neck in sleepy affection as his arms wrapped around me to pull me in tight. He kissed a map along the side of my face, I felt his smile against my skin, and I leaned up to meet his kisses. 

He broke away after a while, claiming that it was late and we needed to get some sleep. Not wanting to leave his embrace, I nuzzled into him and told him I would rather sleep where we were. He rubbed my back and kissed my temple and gently encouraged me to stand. Not wanting to anger him and ruin the sweetest moments of our time together, I did as was indicated without much fuss and we parted with a goodnight kiss that took my breath away. Lying in Harry's bed later, rubbing his back as he fought against sleep, I thought over what had happened and why he had treated me with such affection, and I understood. He did it in order to placate me, to calm me, because he knew that his action could cause me anger and fear enough to tell someone, someone of power, that he had joined their leagues. But then I thought back to the look in his eyes and that flicker of unshed tears, and I thought that maybe he did it not just because I needed it, but because after what he must have gone through to get that marred black Mark, he needed it as well. 

- January 10 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

Harry had been eyeing me all day with this peculiar gleam in his eye that told me he was up to something. After sitting through History of Magic balancing his glances and Malfoy's suggestive facial expressions; almost being attacked by a disgruntled Pourmer Dure sapling in Herbology because of Harry's inattentiveness of the task at hand, only avoiding the plant thanks to Justin Finch-Fletchly's quick hand; and spending an entire lunch listening to Hermione lecture about being responsible with my brothers' samples while Harry only watched me with an impish grin, I had had it. 

"What have you been gawping at me all day about, Harry? You're going to make me nutters if you don't stop with that smirk." 

He grinned and then tried to play as though he hadn't, shoving a slice of bread in his mouth. "I haven't been gawping at you all day. You're imagining things." 

"Am not. Now out with it. What are you scheming?" 

"Now, honestly, Ron, what would give you the idea that your best friend was scheming against you?" 

"You've got that glint in your eye. Now out with it." 

He surveyed me for a moment before sighing and grinning again, "Oh all right. I found out something last night that I think you might be interested to know." 

"And that is?" 

"According to a very reliable Irishman," He flashed a look at Seamus, "who heard it from a Ravenclaw who heard it from a Hufflepuff who happens to be the person's best friend, there's a Hufflepuff seventh-year that fancies you." His grin widened as he eyed my reaction over his pumpkin juice. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "Someone fancies Ron? Who then?" 

I nodded in agreement with her and turned back to Harry, "Yes, who then?" 

Harry only bit back his ever-widening grin, "I promised I'd keep mum, but there's no harm in guessing." 

He received twin glares from Hermione and I. "Hannah Abbot?" Hermione asked and my eyes pleaded with Harry for her to have the wrong gender. He winked back and shook his head. 

"Nope, not a girl." 

"Not a girl? Why are you so giddy then? Ron doesn't fancy boys." 

I heard a snort down the table from Dean and Seamus spit out his pumpkin juice before trying to hide his snickers from her. Harry and I exchanged a look, "Um… 'Mione… Remember that talk we had a couple weeks ago?" 

She looked at me blankly for a minute then her eyes went wide and she started smacking me, "That's why you didn't fancy me?! Because you fancy boys?! Why didn't you tell me before?! Could have saved me a lot of stress! Silly prat!" 

I tried to fend her off as best I could, "I'm sorry, I thought you understood when I said I was more attracted to someone like Frank! Relax, Merlin, stop smacking me!" 

"I thought you meant Francine Milton! How was I supposed to know you meant a boy? It's not like it's a natural conclusion to make when your best friend is telling you he can't date you because he's more attracted to someone else that that someone else is his gender!" 

"'Mione, please, you're going to make a scene. Relax, I'm sorry, I thought you'd get it. I didn't even know Francine Milton goes by Frank and she's a Slytherin anyway!" 

"How was I supposed to know that?" 

I sighed and rubbed my temples, "I don't know, Hermione. I'm not exactly used to telling people I'm gay and especially not you. Forgive me for a being a bit awkward about it." 

She looked a bit put out, but relaxed finally and settled back to eating, "It's fine, just be a bit more clear next time." 

I eyed her and bit my lip, "Are you ok with it, though?" 

She sighed and then gave me a half-smile, "Yes, of course. I suspected a little bit, but I wasn't sure." 

"You suspected? I'm obvious?" 

"No, you just look at boys a little more than a normal bloke would, not noticeable if you aren't looking." 

"Oh." 

"Right, if Hermione doesn't have anymore objections, back to the subject at hand." I had almost forgotten what we'd been talking about in the stress of thinking Hermione might not accept me. Harry was impatiently tapping his fork on his plate. 

"Right then, back to the Hufflepuff. He's a seventh year? Is he in herbology?" I began glancing down the line of Hufflepuffs , trying to determine who it could be. 

"Yes, he's most definitely in herbology." 

"Zacharias?" Harry looked affronted. "Thomas?" Denied. "Frederick?" Denied. "Alexis?" Denied. I looked over the Hufflepuff table once more and my eyes fell on Justin Finch-Fletchly, the boy who saved me from the vicious thrashing by the Pourmer Dure earlier that day. He was talking to a few other people, but then our eyes met and a small smile curled onto his lips. I smiled back and turned to Harry, "Justin." It wasn't a question because I knew before his eyes changed to that shade of green just shy of the grass after a rainstorm. 

"Justin Finch-Fletchly fancies Ron? But he's not even gay! Is he?" 

"Apparently, and not only that, but very smitten. Seamus heard he talks about you all the time." 

"Really?" I snuck another glance at the Hufflepuff table and Justin was laughing again. Something fluttered inside me, not the same as the hoard of snitches I got when looking at Malfoy, but it was something. He was attractive and sweet, and his nose crinkled when he laughed. And he fancied me. Hmm. 


	7. Ginerva

A/N: reviews are lovely things :) no, draco will not be pleased at all, and he surely is going to hurt someone. 

the chronology chart seemed to go over well, so i'm going to continue it. 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 7 -- chapter 6.2 -- 

- December 2 - 1997 - Seventh Year -

"Mum's been asking about you, wants to know if you've found a nice girl yet," Ginny gave me a pointed look and I sighed. 

"Why do I have to be the one Mum checks up on? Doesn't she still have to marry off the twins first?" 

"I think she's given up hope on them settling down. The twins and settling don't exactly belong in the same sentence, do they?" 

I laughed and then sighed, "Yeah, but neither do me and finding a 'nice girl'. I'm going to just have to tell her, aren't I?" 

"Looks like it." We were approaching the doors to the Great Hall for dinner and I could see Malfoy coming from down the opposite hallway. We arrived at the doors at the same moment and I expected his usual sneer, but it was missing and seemed to be replaced by a… smile, a genuine one. I didn't think him capable of one. 

He opened to door and nodded to Ginny, "Ginerva." She returned the smile and walked through the door, confusing me even further, and Malfoy followed her in, his eyes trailing on me before he let the door go. I caught it and slipped inside before it could slam in my face. 

I caught up with Ginny and grabbed her elbow, hissing into her ear, "What in the bloody fuck was that?" 

She gave me a quizzical look before sitting between a few of her friends and Neville, "What was what about?" 

"Malfoy." I stated, making Neville budge over so I could sit next to her. I snuck a glance at the Slytherin table to see Malfoy lent over Pansy, whispering in her ear with his eyes glintingly trained on me. Ginny shrugged. 

"He's been doing things like that all week. He can be kind of nice if he's not insulting you." 

Neville and I both dropped our forks. "Malfoy? Nice? That's a likely story." 

She shrugged again, "I don't know. He's been holding doors open and stuff all week. He helped me with some books on the top shelf in the library yesterday and he even told me I looked pretty this morning." My mouth opened a few times without much success in forming words. She gave me an annoyed look, "What? I know it's weird, but maybe he's trying to change or something…" 

"Ginny, he's a bloody Deatheater! They don't change. He is evil and he will always be evil. There's no redemption in his cards." 

She actually rolled her eyes at me, "He isn't a Deatheater, that's just a rumor. They don't recruit people until they're out of school." 

"Roll up his bloody sleeve some time. It's there, believe me." 

"How would you know?" 

"I've seen it." 

"He wouldn't be stupid enough to let you see it, if he had one. Please try to pretend you think I'm at least a little sensible." 

"Ginny, I promise you on Mum and Dad's lives, I have seen the bloody Mark on his forearm. It is there." _ I've bloody felt it, bitten it even._

"Oh really, when then?" 

I looked down at my plate, thinking of the night he came back with it and the way he touched me. I resisted the pleasurable shiver that threatened to run down my spine as I threw a glance at him again. He was still watching me with that glint in his eyes, but he'd stopped whispering to Pansy. "I can't tell you that, you'll have to trust me." She only gave me an incredulous sigh and turned to talk to her friends. I watched Malfoy for the rest of dinner, able to justify it as wanting him dead for even thinking of talking to my sister. His eyes were glazed over with amusement every time he glanced back at me, but I only clenched a fist under the table and plotted ways of torturing him. The last time he sneered, then turned to say something to his entourage before leaving the table alone. I made some excuse and followed him. I made no effort to catch up with him until we were well on the way to what I thought would be the dungeons, but then realized was the tapestry. I grabbed his collar in anger and shoved him against the wall a few feet away from it. "What in the bloody fuck do you think you're doing with my sister?" I growled at him. 

His eyes glittered with amusement and he reached up to loosen my tie, completely ignoring my hand around his throat. "Why, I haven't the faintest idea what you could be talking about. Why would you think I was doing anything with Ginerva?" 

I slapped his hand away, but he kept going, beginning to unbutton my shirt, "She said you've been holding doors and helping her out all week. What are you scheming?" 

He made a noise of annoyance when I slapped his hand away again, and shoved me into the wall next to him even harder than I had initially shoved him. "I'm not scheming, I'm being polite. They're called manners, Weasley, although I wouldn't expect you to know that. I doubt your family could afford a few pleases and thank yous, let alone the ability to hold open a door for a lady." 

I sneered and tried to shove him away, but his grip was stronger than mine. My struggles only made him step closer to me so that our bodies were pressed against each other and I could feel the lump in his trousers against my thigh. "Let me go, Malfoy." 

He grinned wickedly and leaned in to lick my lips, "I think I rather like things the way they are…" 

I struggled harder against him, "Stop it, Malfoy. I already told you I won't touch you until you stop with Parkinson." 

He growled through clenched teeth, "Fuck Parkinson. Just shut up, I don't want to hear any more of this. Lord, please, would you just shut up?" His voice held this desperate twinge that I'd never heard before. I was about to stutter a surprised reply, but his lips were on mine before I could open my mouth and the whole world melted into him and his body pressed against mine. He was hot and probing and caressing my mouth with his sweet tongue and I could barely hold up a resistance. From the desperate searching his hands were doing in my robes, I could tell that even a hex wouldn't have been able to stop this. He was going to consume me whether I wanted it or not. And I decided as I melted into him that this time, just this once, there would be no fighting. Suddenly my fingers were fumbling with his shirt buttons and I couldn't get his clothing off fast enough. His hands were sliding down into the back of my trousers and squeezing my bum as I groaned into his mouth. He smiled against my lips and began trailing kisses down my neck to suck and nip at my Adam's apple. My head lulled back against the wall and I was lost to the world. I could feel myself mumbling as I fidgeted with his impossible belt buckle, I think I was begging him, but I could have been confessing my undying love for him and I doubt he would have noticed. We were both entranced by each other, uncontrolled, needy, desperate for each other's touch after such a long absence, but then the only thing that could have possibly stopped us sliced through the distant air and shattered our reverie. 

A simple word, my name, pushed into the thick air by the only person I never wanted to see me like this. I froze sandwiched between the cold stone and that warm body that was still sucking and biting as though it hadn't heard the voice. He mumbled something about hexing if I made him stop now, but I gently pushed at his chest to get him to stop anyway. He growled and hit my hand away, "What the bloody fuck is the matter, Weasley? I've waited two months for this; we are fucking if I have to put you under Imperio to do it…" His anger trailed off as he noticed what I was looking at and immediately pulled away and turned his back to us to right himself. 

"Ron? What's going on?" Harry looked so confused and I could see the hurt slipping into those green eyes as he looked from Draco to me. 

I opened my mouth but the words refused to come out. How was I supposed to answer to that betrayed look on his face? It turned out I didn't have to because Draco turned around with an arrogant sniff of his nose and stood between Harry and I in an almost protective stance, "Nothing that concerns you, _Potter_. Why don't you sod off and go save some muggles or some bullocks?" 

Fury flashed in Harry's eyes and before Draco could even react, his wand was out, a curse called, and Draco was on the ground twenty feet away. Without thinking, I went to help him up, but he shoved my hand away and stood by himself, brushing his robes off, "Don't bother. Straighten your clothing out; you look even more a mess than usual." I looked down at myself and groaned in embarrassment, fumbling to get my clothing back together in a hurry. In the meantime, Draco brushed pass me to Harry again, wand out this time. "You're going to pay for that, Potter." He lifted his wand, but before he could utter the curse he was planning, I launched at him, taking the wand and pinning his arms behind his back. He tried violently to pull away, "Let me go, Weasel! You have no right to restrain me!" 

"You have no right to crucio Harry, either, and don't pretend you weren't going to," I growled back, but I stroked circles into his palm with my thumb, still holding his wrists, and he seemed to be a bit satiated by it, although he was still huffing in anger. Harry was starring at me with this look of disbelief. I sighed, bucked up, and met his gaze, "You weren't supposed to find out about this. I'm sorry, but I didn't think you'd approve and I didn't want to hurt you." 

"How long has this been going on?" 

"None of your business," Malfoy spat, earning him a hard prod in the spine. 

"It was about a year, but I stopped it a little over two months ago." 

"Yeah, and I've been steadily working him back out of his clothes and was just about to get his trousers off, so if you wouldn't mind sodding off, we can get back to fucking." Harry looked a bit horrified, and I prodded him again, harder, and he squirmed away a bit. 

"Don't be vulgar." 

"Vulgar? Big word there, Weasley, borrow a dictionary from the Mudblood?" That was it, the tension of Harry finding out mixed with sexual frustration was too much for me to tolerate Hermione being insulted. I slammed him against the wall and drew my wand on him. 

"You apologize, and you do it right now." 

He rolled his eyes, but I could see the weariness, he knew I still had his wand in my pocket. "What do you want me to apologize for? Your stupidity or Potter's?" 

"Apologize for insulting Hermione and for trying to pull an Unforgivable on Harry." 

"I'd rather go down on a muggle." 

"This isn't an option. Do it or I hurt you in a very unpleasant way." 

"I think I'd rather like you to hurt me in a very unpleasant way." 

"_Malfoy_." 

"_Weasley_." 

I sighed and rubbed at my temple in frustration. "Just bloody apologize already." 

"Malfoys don't apologize, and even if we did, I'd have nothing to apologize _for_. Granger _is_ a Mudblood, whether you appreciate the term or not, and Potter attacked me _first_. And with no _reason_, I might add. It wasn't as though I insulted his mother. I was simply trying to shag his best mate, and I've already been doing that for _quite_ a time now. In my family, I have the right to Avada Kedavra him if I so choose. He's just lucky I didn't" 

"This isn't your family, this is us. No one has the right to pull an Unforgivable at _any_ time." 

He rolled his eyes and moved my wand away, tugging at my waist as he closed the distance between us. "This is becoming tedious. Can we say goodbye to Potter and get back to shagging now?" 

I shot a look at Harry, still looking horrified and his wand pointing directly at Malfoy's head, before taking a step back. "No, this is already finished. I shouldn't have let you touch me and I'm not going to let you again. Stay away from my sister." I turned and left the hallway to go back to Gryffindor. Harry caught up a minute later. 

"A year?" 

I sighed and avoided his eyes, "Yes, a year. I was under this weird allusion that I loved him, don't ask why. It's over now, that was a slip-up, and it was only because he had me pinned." 

"You thought you loved _Malfoy_? Is that even possible?!" 

I think I lashed out because I was still frustrated and angry with myself for allowing it to happen. "Yes! It's Fucking Possible! And I Didn't _Think_ I Loved Malfoy! I _Did_ Love Malfoy! And maybe I still do." The last bit was a muttered sigh, and I don't even know if Harry heard it because I was already storming away. 

- - - - -

a/n: apparently before and because are the same word because i definetely switched the latter for the former at least twice in this chapter. i blame finals. anyways, it's fixed now, and so is everything else i could catch. anything i missed, let me know and i'll adjust. oh, and i changed a bit of the wording around and added/deleted some in this and the other chapters to make it a bit less awkward. 


	8. No, Not Every Night

A/N: i'm incredibly pleased that you all are enjoying the story, especially since i seem to be harboring severe trepidition about it. however, tonight is my last night in the dorms for a month, i've had a bit of wine, and all trepidition is forgotten. 

along with spell-check, so be advised. 

to answer a few reviews, yes, harry knew about draco before he told ron about justin, there's litle over a month time span between the two sections. his motives will be explained later. 

btw, the last bit i'm posting is the farthest i've gotten in plot thus-far (i've written a lot that i haven't posted yet between it and the current justin/ron/draco plot), it's 4 years after graduation. 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 7 -- chapter 6.2 -- chapter 8.2 -- chapter 8.1 -- chapter 8.3 -- 

- July 19 - 1998 -

Not until the small box came with a prestigious black queen tucked inside the cushioned interior, holding a letter shrunk to fit in her hand, did I speak again. I took her up to my room and set her on the bed before going to my trunk and taking out the rest of the pieces he had given me. I lined the boxes up next to each other and opened each in turn, the pieces starring up at me with perfect little black and white faces shimmering in the dim light. I sat on the floor in front of them and starred, not sure if I was ready to think about him yet. The black queen held out the letter, her tiny voice telling me to take it from her. I did so and enlarged it to normal size, looking over the expensive parchment and the Malfoy crest that sealed it closed. Before I could decide whether to burn it or read it, there was a knock on the door and Harry's face appeared in the doorway. 

"Mum sent me to tell you dinner's… Whoa, where'd those come from?" 

I looked from the letter to them and sighed a little, "Malfoy. He's been sending them to me since it all started. The last piece just came a few minutes ago." 

The door creaked a bit as Harry stepped inside and stood over me, looking at the pieces, "Why would he do that? He just married Parkinson. It's all over the front page of the Prophet." 

Despite myself, I let out a sad laugh that I'm sure sounded more pathetic than amused, "To remind me that it isn't over." 

"But he's married…" 

I shook my head and looked up at him, feeling somehow beaten and tired, "It's doesn't matter. None of that matters. He pursued me while dating her, he pursued me while trying to date Ginny, and he pursued me while I was with Justin. Fidelity isn't a word in his vocabulary. I'm his no matter what our situations are and he wants me to remember that." 

"Well, if he's so intent on having you, then why did he just get married? Why not just be with you?" 

"Because he can't. He has to marry, produce an heir, be a respectable Malfoy, all that rubbish. His father would disown and probably kill him if he defied him and took up with me." 

"So, instead he sends you chess pieces?" He sounded incredulous as he sat down next to me, starring at the chess pieces as well. 

"He's done it since we began. Every time he does something wrong, I get a chess piece. The value of the piece on the board equaled the value of his action. When he didn't show up to a planned meeting, I found a pawn on my pillow. When he did those things with Pansy in front of me, I got knights, rooks. When he flirted with Ginny, I got bishops. When he had Crabbe and Goyle hurt Justin, I got the black king and white queen. When he got the Mark, I got the white king. Now he's married Pansy, I have the black queen, the full set." 

"So what happens now? Do you meet him at the manner or something?" 

I steeled myself and stood, "No, now I burn the letter and never speak to him again. When he left me, I told him that it was over, that I wouldn't let him touch me again, and I meant it. Never again. I don't give a bloody fuck if he sends me Strikelightening 2000 next. I won't touch him." I turned and left the room, the letter clutched in my hand. My family looked at me strangely from the dinner table when I tossed the parchment in the flames, but I didn't give them an explanation and they didn't ask, having gotten used to my silence by then. Harry came down a minute later and sat down next to George. Regular conversation started back up a few awkward moments later. 

- February 4 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

I had been so angry all week that I was twitching and Harry and Hermione were giving me worried looks when they weren't telling me to relax. My hands were tingling, just waiting to get him alone. I was going to kill him, literally. He had done sick things to me for six years, and I had taken it because I thought I loved him, but when I saw Justin in that hospital bed, something snapped. No matter how angry Malfoy was, he did not touch Justin. And so I waited for my golden opportunity to find him without Crabbe and Goyle, or Pansy, when I could make him cry out in pain and beg for mercy he did not deserve. 

I saw him on the way to dinner one night, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him with menacing glares. I ignored them, they were not worth my effort, but I gave Malfoy the most malicious sneer I had ever been able to form. He only smirked and looked me up and down. "How's the Hufflepuff, out yet? I bet you can't wait so you can fuck him some more, right? You sick, disgusting faggot." 

The anger built up so fast that I saw red and before I even had time to think of what Crabbe and Goyle would do, my fist connected with his nose. The force of the punch knocked him down, and I pounced on him, swinging at every inch of available skin, screaming at him Merlin only knows what. And then I felt arms under my armpits and I was being lifted up and slammed against the wall. I was face to face with Crabbe and Goyle and the looked ready to kill. 

Before they could lift their fists high enough to punch me though, there was a weak 'no' from behind them and they turned almost like twins to look at him. Malfoy had managed to stand up, but was shaking on his legs. There were cuts along his cheek; his lip was split open in several places; and his nose slanted and bleeding profusely. Good, the bastard deserved much worse than a few cuts and bruises and a broken nose. He stumbled up to where the two Neanderthals still held me to the wall and pulled out his wand. I knew he was going to say an Unforgivable, but I still could not help myself from speaking. 

"Justin never did anything to you, how could you do that to him just to get to me? You jealous fucking prat! And who are you to call me a sick disgusting faggot?! You've been up my ass so many times you might as well set up house in there! You're just angry because someone else is getting to touch what is no longer yours! You are a spoiled, jealous, little ferret and you deserve more pain than I could ever give you!" Crabbe and Goyle were staring at me in shock and Malfoy looked ready to spit fire. 

"I don't know what you're talking about Weasel, but you're making me sick. Shut your fucking mouth!" 

"Maybe I don't want to! Maybe I think it's time people found out! Maybe your precious minions and that slimy, albino excuse for a girlfriend you have to know the truth!" 

"There is no truth, Weasel! I don't know what you're talking about! If you aren't going to shut up, I'll make you shut up!" His wand rose again and he opened his mouth to call out a curse, but was stopped by an 'Expelliarmus!' The wand flew back into an unseen hand, but the small crowd that had gathered around us parted and Professor McGonagall stepped up to Malfoy, his wand in her hand. Crabbe and Goyle immediately let me go. 

"Mr. Malfoy, I am astonished at this act of cowardice! To have friends hold up a defenseless victim while you attack him! Fifty points from Slytherin and a month's detention! I'm very ashamed at your behavior and will be informing your Head of House." 

"Professor! Weasely attacked me first! And it wasn't exactly pleasant, either, look at my face!" 

Professor McGonagall looked at me and shook her head in shame, "Mr. Weasely, what do you have to say for yourself?" 

"I was provoked. He called me a sick, disgusting faggot. He deserved it, especially after what he's already done to Justin." 

"But you admit to having attacked Mr. Malfoy?" She raised a disapproving eyebrow at me and I looked down to my hands, the knuckles split and bleeding in a few places. 

"Yes. I hit him." 

She shook her head at me and sighed, "Twenty points from Gryffindor and you'll be joining Mr. Malfoy in a week of his detention." 

"Professor, that's hardly fair, he attacked me. Our punishments should be equal." 

"Whether that is the case or not, which I highly doubt it is, my decision stands. Now, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you head to the infirmary to have Madam Pomfrey look at your injuries. The rest of you, run along to dinner and don't start any more fights." She turned and led the crowd into the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle hesitated to follow but were gestured away by Malfoy, who had begun to nurse his bleeding nose while glaring at me. I stood still and starred at him. 

"What are you playing at; telling people about what isn't their business? You knew the consequences of your actions when you began to see that filthy little Mudblood." 

I sighed and shook my head, forcing myself not to spit in his face with disgust. "Just go get your nose fixed, Malfoy. You deserve more than you got. Cut your losses and walk away." I turned and left him there, still seething, my hands clenching and unclenching. But I had stopped shaking. 

- September 2 - 2002 -

I was pleased to see Draco still in my bed and still sleeping when I woke up. He was sprawled out on his stomach with one arm draped across my stomach and his hair dreadfully mussed. For some reason, I had always thought his hair would be neat in the mornings. I kind of liked that I was wrong. I kissed his cheek and slid out from under his arm, pulling on some jogging pants before going to the kitchen for coffee. Harry was sitting at the table with a mug curled between his fingers, starring at the chess board he must have brought in from the living room. 

"Did he leave you this as compensation for leaving you and breaking your heart again?" His voice was slightly bitter, but I tried to ignore it. 

"No, he hasn't left. He said he wanted to be with me. He's left his wife. He's going to stay here." 

"No, he isn't. You're my best friend, my adopted brother, and I'd do anything, including die, for you, but I will _not_ live under the same roof as Draco Malfoy. You can be with him all you want and I'll try to hold my tongue, but I am not going to allow him to live here." 

I sighed and settled into a chair across from him, sipping at my coffee. "Fine, he won't live here. But he can stay the night if I want him to? Once in a while?" 

He eyed me and then the chess board, "Fine, if he must. But not every night." 

"No, not every night." We stayed quiet, both looking at the board. 

"He does have a taste for beautiful things, though. This is exquisite…" He brushed his fingers across a corner of the carvings, looking every bit as in awe of is as I was. 

"Handmade in Italy, one of a kind; I picked the designs myself. It will never be recreated. The gentleman that made it died last December and was buried with every tool and drawing in his shop," Draco's voice floated into the room, followed quickly by him, wearing a pair of my pajamas pants and one of my favorite Chuddly Cannons' t-shirts. He pecked my lips as he slid into the chair to my right, "We really need to organize that room of yours, love. It's amazing you can find a pair of underwear, let alone an entire outfit." 

"You managed to find something, I see. And fixed your hair." I grinned at him over my coffee. 

"My hair? What was wrong with me hair?" He began to smooth it self-consciously, giving me a worried look. 

"You just looked a bit a mess, is all." 

He bristled, "Malfoy's are never 'a mess'. It goes against our very nature." 

"You need to change your name then, 'cause you do a lot of things that go against the 'Malfoy nature'." 

He relaxed some and dropped his hands, "Indeed." There was a bit of silence where I stood to pour him some coffee. I heard him mutter 'Potter' and turned to see them curtly nod at each other. It wasn't much, but it was something. 


	9. Shagging Harry

A/N: i'm sorry for the long delay, but i went to san fran for christmas and san antonio for new years (best not to ask, really), and didn't have internet access. 

and i'm having a bit of trouble with the story, losing my nerve so to speak. and i'm really pissed at draco, but you'll understand that next chapter. 

anyway, here you go. sorry again for the wait and thank you all for reviewing. you have no idea how much it's appreciated. 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 7 -- chapter 9.1 -- chapter 6.2 -- chapter 9.3 -- chapter 8.2 -- chapter 9.2 -- chapter 8.1 -- chapter 8.3 -- 

- December 23 - 1997 - Seventh Year -

I was still angry at myself for letting Draco get to me and Harry and I had stopped speaking. Hermione was fluttering around us like a nervous bird, prodding us to speak again. Neither of us had told her what the fight was about and not knowing only drove her harder towards trying for peace. Malfoy was working at Harry with more fervor than ever and had taken to shoving me into walls, fondling me, and whispering suggestive demands in my ear whenever the mood struck him, which wasn't often, but enough to annoy me. It only became hard to push him away on the days that I did not see him draped across Pug-face and or speaking to Ginny. I had been sitting, curled up in my chair by the fire with my muggle studies book when I heard the swoosh of the tapestry. My head shot up, panicked that I was cornered by Draco, but I was shocked to see Harry standing on the last step, the Maurader's Map in his hand. He was looking at me curiously. 

"When did you find this place?" His voice was soft and almost cautious. 

"I didn't, Draco did. This is where we meet. I wanted some quiet." 

He looked around with a look I couldn't read, "You've... with him... here?" 

"Almost exclusively, yes. No one comes here but the house elves and that's only because Draco tells them to." 

He nodded, his eyes falling on the couch that was slowly growing smaller every week. Draco would have to do the stretching spell again if he wanted it to remain a couch. "I don't like that you're.. Er, with him. Or were... Or whatever..." 

"I'm not going to apologize for being with him. It was my choice." 

"You didn't let me finish. I don't like it, but I'm going to accept it. You're my best friend and if it makes you happy, then that should be enough." 

I smiled to myself, "Thank you. That makes me feel a little better." 

"Can we start talking again, then? 'Cause Hermione's driving me nutters and I don't think I can survive another history without you." He gave me a tentative smile. 

I smiled back and pointed to the chair in the corner that Draco and I had never touched before. "Want some tea?" 

He summoned the chair next to mine and sat, "Sure. This place is pretty comfortable." 

"I know. I've been coming here to think a lot lately. It's calming when Draco isn't here." 

"Does he show up a lot?" 

"I don't think he knows I've been coming here. He'd show up otherwise." 

"So you aren't..." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and glanced at the cup of tea that appeared for him before taking it up. 

I took his meaning and shook my head. "No, no, I'm not. More avoiding him than anything. I wouldn't be here if I thought he'd show up. He's only done that once when we didn't plan it and.." I shivered at the memory, but took a calming breath and relaxed at it just being a memory. "I'd rather not talk about it." 

He seemed to be surveying me, but then he smiled, "Good. He's horrible for you, anyways. I think it'd be a good idea to find you someone non-violent. Perhaps someone that isn't a Deatheater?" 

I grinned and nudged his arm, "Bastard." 

"Then should I start probing for possibilities immediately?" He was grinning, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. 

I returned the grin, "You can if you want. I doubt you'll find anyone though." 

His grin turned conspiratorial, "I think I'll be able to find someone. You're pretty hot, for a bloke." 

I smirked and shoved his shoulder, "Shut it, you'll make me blush." 

- May 4 - 1998 - Seventh Year - 

I could still hear their screams, the agony, the anger. My body was alight with pain worse than anything I had ever felt. There was bustle all around me, and all I wanted was to go to sleep, but something nagged at me. I looked at the bed next to mine and saw Harry, his eyes closed, all color drained from his body, and I grew terrified that he had not made it. Someone, Hermione I think, must have seen my fear because a hand pressed against the shoulder that wasn't broken and whispered in my ear that his magic had been drained and he was sleeping. I relaxed a bit and tried to get comfortable, despite the pain, but it was to no avail. My pillow was at an odd angle and the room was in such a tangle of confusion that I couldn't distinguish one face from another enough to ask someone to help. Something was poured down my throat, by whom I don't know, but by the time I could muster up voice enough to ask them to adjust my pillow, they were somewhere else. Deciding to cut my losses in favor of sleep, I closed my eyes to the chaos and tried to drift away. The liquid I had been given had done well to ease some of my pain and sleep was fast approaching. 

But then there was yelling, an argument. I wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality, but I could hear his voice and suddenly I wanted him with me. I tried to open my mouth to ask for him, but my throat was too dry and no words came out. The yelling had drawn closer, and when it almost reached my bedside, I distinguished Hermione's harsh yell at him to go away. The last I heard was him growl, "Get off me, you filthy Mudblood, I will _not_ be kept from him." Then there were lips on my forehead, cool lips, his lips, and I opened my eyes to see his face next to mine. I tried to speak, but words still failed me. He smiled ever so slightly, but I could see the fear and the anger in his eyes. His fingers were stroking through my hair and all I could feel was him. 

"You look like hell, you know that?" he whispered with an attempted comforting smile, but his voice was shaking. I smiled the best I could and reached for his other hand, holding it close to my chest, never wanting to lose his touch again. His face grew stern and his mouth curled into a sneer, "I can't believe they did this to you, love. Don't they know I'm the only one allowed to hurt you?" His grip on my hand tightened in his anger, but his fingers in my hair remained gentle. My eyes began to droop, but I fought them, not wanting to stop looking at him. His lips pressed against my forehead again and then his voice whispered for me to go to sleep. He used that word again, that word he always forbade me from using, and my heart was soaring. I nodded and closed my eyes, making sure to keep his hand close, and fell asleep to his fingers in my hair. 

- January 16 - 1998 - Seventh Year - 

I stayed in the shadows for a few days, watching Justin and Draco and allowing my thoughts to mend themselves into a decision. Draco had taken to leaning over Ginny's shoulder and murmuring in her ear, his eyes trained on me with the faintly vindictive little smirk. I didn't mind it, knowing that Ginny took no interest in his showering attention. She had mentioned something about him while we were visiting the twins, who were now so successful, they'd managed a second shop in Hogsmeade. Their reaction had been violent protestation, and in an act so completely unlike them, threatened a letter not only to Dad, but to Bill and Charlie as well, and that took all though of how sweet Draco could be right out of her head. 

So Draco flirted with little success and I found two new, shiny boxes on my pillow, one three days after the first, and two notes requesting meetings that I did not attend. 

Justin was all smiles, all the time, and his laughter filled almost every room he was in. I never noticed how bubbly he could be until I started watching. I liked it, that he was always happy, always willing to throw a grin at you, even if he had no reason for it. It was a definite change of pace from Malfoy, and with the way Malfoy continued to shamelessly flirt with my sister and the rumors about him and anyone he could find that he made sure got back to me, I definitely needed to take a step in another direction. 

Nearing a decision, I crawled in bed with Harry one night to have a talk. He had had another nightmare and it had involved Lupin and my dad, and though I was worried, I did my best to comfort him. Some time before I had turned into my mother and had taken to rubbing his back in a soothing way to try to get him back to sleep. He tried to play as though the dreams did not bother him and that he wasn't worried about the battle that Dumbledore seemed to think would happen sooner rather than later, but I knew him too well to be fooled by his cool exterior. I knew he wasn't allowing himself to sleep again and had taken it upon myself to get him to comply with his body's drowsiness. If the other guys had not started putting silencing spells over their beds, they'd probably though I wanted to get in his trousers, but there was nothing sexual in my crawling in bed with him. Harry was slowly working his way into brother status, and sometime during the previous summer, he'd taken to calling my mum 'Mum', so no, there was nothing sexual about it. 

I forced him to lie down once more and ran fingers through his hair as he settled into the covers. He let out a contented sigh as I began to rub his back and his eyes closed instinctively. "Harry?" There was a mumbled acknowledgment. "Can I talk to you about something?" Another mumble. "I think I want to ask Justin to go to Hogsmeade with me." 

"So you like him, then?" His voice was hoarse from the screaming he'd woken up from, but it sounded hopeful nonetheless. 

"Yeah, I think I do. I've been watching him, and he's always so happy and friendly. I think I'd like to be with someone that actually smiles to show me they're happy to see me and not just smirks and throws an insult." 

"Good, I told you the slimy git was no good for you. Glad you're going for someone that's actually going to treat you nicely." He smiled up at me and I poked him in the back of the head. 

"Shut up, Malfoy isn't all bad. He could be gentle and loving, it just took an orgasm or two and a traumatic event or a threat." He snorted, but I pretended not to hear him. "And that brings us to Malfoy. I don't know how he's going to react to me dating someone. What if he kills him?" 

"He won't kill him. He won't even touch him." 

"You don't know him like I do. He gets possessive at the slightest sign that I have interaction with another bloke. He used to get so angry when I'd come down in your clothes on accident. He thought we were shagging for the longest time.." I started smiling slightly at the memory of his kisses when I denied that I was shagging anyone else. 

Harry wrinkled his nose, "What are you smiling about? That isn't amusing." 

"Sorry, I was just thinking about.. Nevermind. You don't want to know." 

He gave an exasperated sigh, "Ron, I'm not going to shag you no matter how hot you think I am." 

I snorted, "I'm sorry Harry. I just can't help it. I mean, look at you." 

"Bloody irresistible, I know. But you can't have me." 

"And now you've gone and crushed al my dreams..." 

"You'll get over it." He patted my knee affectionately and burrowed into the blankets. 

I shook the goofy grin off my face, "We've gotten off subject. What do I do when Draco finds out? Either Justin or I will end up in the hospital wing. Do I want to subject him to that? I mean, Draco can hurt me all he wants, I'm used to leaving him with bruises, but Justin.." 

Harry looked stern and a little sad, "Ron, do you like Justin?" 

"Yeah, I already told you that." 

"Then just ask him. Fuck Malfoy, he's already done enough damage to you. Don't let him stand in the way of your happiness anymore. He's not worth it." 

"I know..." I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, scratching the back of my neck. I couldn't help myself from thinking that maybe Draco wasn't standing in the way of my happiness, maybe he was my happiness. But Harry would have reacted violently to that, so I just nodded and went back to rubbing his back. 


	10. Shards of a Teacup

A/N: thank you all for your reviews, the ones lately have been really lovely, so thank you once more. sorry it took so long, 3 serious english classes and two language courses have kind of dwindled my time down to the weekends, if that. 

i'm sticking a disclaimer on this chapter because it is deeply disturbing. i don't have on on every chapter with the jk and scholasitc bs because, well, if you're on this site, you know all that already, i would hope. but this chapter is.. well, let's just say it took all my strength to write it and i REALLY hate draco now. and i mean REALLY HATE HIM. although, he's been slowly redeeming himself, and i do understand his motives, however sick and twisted they are. 

once again, this chapter is DEEPLY DISTRUBING. it contains a rape scene, at least i consider it a rape scene. i know those that would claim that it could never be rape if you're already involved with the person as seriously as ron and draco are, but i say that's bullshit. ron very clearly states that he does not want it, begs for it to stop, and is in agony the entire time. it is rape. so be forewarned. 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 10 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 7 -- chapter 9.1 -- chapter 6.2 -- chapter 9.3 -- chapter 8.2 -- chapter 9.2 -- chapter 8.1 -- chapter 8.3 -- 

- April 21 - 1997 - Sixth Year -

I was curled up in my chair, nursing a cup of tea and hating him so badly my hand was shaking. He had started up that bloody song again and it kept playing over and over in my mind. I don't know why I expected better of him, but the way he touched me sometimes… No, I was not going to think that way because it obviously was not true. I sighed and leaned my head against the side of the chair. It was later than I had thought and I considered leaving, but I had not finished my tea and it was so comfortable by the fire. When I looked up, he was there, sitting in his chair, starring at me. I tried to play as though his appearance hadn't startled me as I sat up a bit, "How long have you been here?" My voice was hoarse and raspy for some reason. 

"A while." 

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I wanted to watch you." 

"Why are you here? We aren't meeting tonight." 

"I could ask you the same question." 

I glared at him and sang the first few lines of the bloody song. A smirk emerged on his lips. I scowled at him, "How could you? You know that song destroys my confidence." 

"That would be the point." 

"Yeah, I know that's why it was created, but I just thought… After what's happened…" 

He grinned like Crookshanks after he'd caught a bird, "You thought that our little tryst was making me fall for you, and how could I possibly do a thing like this is I was in love with you, right?" I looked into my mug, feeling more ashamed than usual, and his grin widened, eyes glinting cruelly. "Let me enlighten you, Weasley. I don't love you. It's true that I can't keep my hands off you and can barely stand to be near you without ripping your clothing off, but that is all this is. I don't love you, I don't care for you. I don't want to hold your hand and coo gushy babble into your ear. I want to fuck you raw and make you scream and groan and flail in pain and ecstasy, but I do _not_ want to cuddle afterwards." 

I appraised him carefully while taking a sip, "But you do." 

"What?" 

"You cuddle afterwards. You don't gush at me, but you're gentle and you don't yell and I've fallen asleep with you more than a few times on that couch. You're snobbish and rude, but sometimes you're not, and I think that not gave me plenty of room to assume you felt more than lust." 

He starred at me, resembling a fish with his mouth moving open and closed as though a response could not be found, and I thought that maybe he realized what I meant, that we were more and there was no room for him to deny it. I kept myself from grinning by finishing the tea, my insides fluttering about in anticipation for his agreement. But suddenly his face changed, mouth closing and eyes narrowing. My heart started racing as he stood, knowing that I was in for pain. I set straight and strong in my seat, determined not to allow him, still very angry by his actions earlier and now slightly hurt that I had been wrong. He stalked over and fisted great chunks of my hair, ripping me from the chair, and dragged me onto my knees on the ground. "Love? Is that what you think this is?" His voice was like rigid ice and his grip on my hair increased until I felt more than several strands give painfully away in his hand. He gave a disgusted grunt and shoved me onto the carpet, the force of my impact shattering the tea cup still clutched in my hand. The splintered pieces dug passed my flimsy t-shirt and into my skin, causing angry gashed to cut across my chest. 

I felt his shoed foot press against the middle of my back, keeping me in place as he spit out 'love' again. "I'll show you what love feels like, Weasley. "Crucio!" 

My heart stopped, my lungs gave out, my muscles spasmed, and all I could feel was unending, unimaginable pain. I began to convulse with it and my mouth was hanging open, and my eyes bulging, and I was screaming. There was nothing but pain. 

And then, suddenly, it stopped. My heart began again, racing, and I sucked in a deep breath. My entire body ached and I could hardly move. Draco's foot was still pressing me into the carpet and the lost chards of the cup. "Is that love? Is it, Weasel?" I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, trying to soothe the pain. He kicked me, hard, in the small of my back and his voice grew low with danger, "Answer me." 

"No," I managed to choke out, my voice a bit harsh from the pain and the screaming. 

His foot was lifted off of me and I tried to squirm away from the fractured cup, but my body was in too much pain to make it very far. "I can't hear you. What did you say?" I felt a tug at my pants' legs and they were being taken off. This was not good. I could not take another of his assaults, I was already in so much pain. 

I took a deep breath and tried to steady my voice, "No, that wasn't love. You were right. I was wrong. I'm sorry. Please don't do this. Not now." Somewhere between 'love' and 'sorry' my voice turned desperate and I felt tears sting my eyes. He ignored my pleading and pulled the pajamas bottoms off along with my under shorts. I felt him kneel behind me and I frantically dug my hands into the carpet, trying to get away from him. "Please, Draco, No. You've made your point. Stop." 

"Stop? Why would I stop? I'm not even close to being finished with you yet." He lifted my hips despite my protests and shoved into me, the feeling of ripping flesh spreading though me so quickly I called out. I continued to plead with him, but to no avail as he continued to ram into me with every thrust of his hips. It did not last long, but by the time he came, I was seething in agony and it felt as though he had put 'crucio' on me all over again. He leaned over me, still inside, and yanked my hair up so his mouth was level with my ear. "Still think this had anything to do with love, Weasel?" 

I shook my head, panting and closing my eyes. I just wanted him to go away and leave me to lick my wounds in private. He pulled out of me and I heard him re-dress, but I did not open my eyes or lift my head from where it had dropped on the carpet. I concentrated on my breathing and waited. 

"No one knows about this, correct? You don't tell Potter or the Mudblood and you don't go to Pomfrey or Dumbledore or whoever the fuck you would go to. This doesn't leave this room." I didn't answer him, waiting to hear his footsteps retreat. 

After an agonizingly long amount of time, he left. Relief washed over me as I rolled onto my back and began to remover the embedded shards of porcelain, wincing slightly. Once finished, I peeled the shirt off and, with some great effort, crawled over and onto the couch. I tugged my pajamas bottoms back up and called for Dobby, needing someone to help clean up and possibly heal the deep gashes in my chest. When he appeared, he took one look at me and threatened to take me to the hospital wing. I had to beg him and lie to him to get him not to. After he'd left, I settled into the blanket he'd gotten me and curled up on the couch, not wanting to go back to my bed just yet. 

The next morning I woke to the bell ending breakfast and decided to go back to my room. I still ached and I did not want to face anyone, and especially not Malfoy. It took a while, mostly because I had to hide in a few alcoves to keep from meeting anyone, but I got back to Gryffindor and crawled into my bed, drawing the curtains closed. I awoke three hours later to Harry sitting, leant over me, his nose not three inches from mine, and a worried look on his face. "Hey, where have you been? Hermione's near hysterical. You didn't come back last night and you didn't go to class. Where were you?" 

I rolled onto my side, blocked by his arm from rolling to the other side of the bed. My side was much better than my stomach. The pain had begun to ebb everywhere else, but I had been too ashamed to let Dobby see below the hemline of my pants. I knew Harry was waiting for an answer, but I was not ready to tell him anything yet, wasn't sure if I ever would be. 

"Ron?" he whispered, but I only shut my eyes. I heard him sigh and then he was running by back with the hand not blocking me. "You can tell me, you know. Something's happened. What is it?" I stayed silent, but relaxed into his massage, letting him know that I wasn't ignoring him. I think he understood because he sighed again and pattered my shoulder, "Alright. Do you want me to call Pomfrey or Dumbledore?" I shook my head slightly. "Okay, I'll tell Hermione and McGonagall that you're back, but not feeling well. Get some rest. I'll come and check on you later." I felt his lips press against the back of my hair and then his weight was lifted off the bed and I was alone once more. 

Sometime before dinner, there was a loud CRACK and a house elf I did not recognize stood next to my bed. He looked startled to see me in bed, not surprising since they were not supposed to be seen by students. "Jambie is sorry, sir. Jambie is not knowing anyone is here, sir. Jambie is just making a delivery, sir." I smiled reassuringly at the elf, but did not say anything. "Jambie is to put this on Master Weezy's pillow, sir. He is not saying what Jambie is doing if you is here, sir." I reached a hand out to the nervous elf. He hesitated, but then placed the box in my hand before leaving with another CRACK. It was larger than the others had been and I sat up, wincing, in curiosity. After unwrapping the familiar silver paper, I took off the lid. A note lay on top of folded green tissue paper and I picked it up to see what he had to say. 

_Where are you? Potter and the Mudblood have been frantic since breakfast, which means you didn't go back to the dorms, and yet you weren't down at the tapestry either. Or the infirmary. Where did you go? You didn't tell, did you?_

I set the note aside and moved to tissue paper away. Underneath laid a rich, green, cashmere sweater. It was beautiful, soft, and exactly my size. There was no way I would ever be able to wear is without causing questions to be asked, but it was still beautiful. I tucked it away in the box again and stuffed it under the bed before slipping back under the sheets to try to rest more and think about what had happened. 

- - - - -

A/N: thank you to plugindelaney for pointing out a few of my grammar/typing mistakes. you are a goddess :) 


	11. Playing with Lions

A/N: thank you for your reviews, i'm extremely flattered. i am pleased that all of you are as angry with draco as i am. however, you've all brought up something that i would rather like to discuss. 

i noticed that my assumption of draco's motives is different than everyone elses and i'd like to know your thoughts on what i think his reasons are. i've always thought of draco's gifts and his gentleness as being rather more placative than affectionate. there's no doubt that draco cares for ron, he wouldn't have ended up at his house several years after their relationship was over (which will be explained, i promise) if he didn't care for him. however, i would like to note that any real kindness towards ron (excluding the snow scene which i know draco has blocked from his memory ::ahem::) is always done after Draco has done something wrong (dark mark, the ::ahem:: hospital, some other situations you'll see later..). I always saw the acts as more of a showing of his slytherin side than anything. what do slytherins do above all else? protect their own interests. ron is most definitely his interest. he knows that ron responds to being treated lovingly, so when he thinks that their relationship is in danger, he acts accordingly to make sure ron stays. i know that he keeps him more because he cares for him than because the sex is good, but i doubt that draco would see it that way. i think in draco's mind, he is affectionate to ron because he knows that if he is not, ron will leave, and he can not have that. what do you all think? 

btw, i know i'm the author and all, but i merely write down what ron tells me to. if i had any real control of the plot, the last chapter would not have happened. that being said, opinions? 

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 10 -- chapter 11.2 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 7 -- chapter 9.1 -- chapter 6.2 -- chapter 9.3 -- chapter 11.1 -- chapter 8.2 -- chapter 9.2 -- chapter 8.1 -- chapter 8.3 -- 

- January 19 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

Justin and I were standing outside the grounds of the Shrieking Shack, hand-in-hand, fumbling over conversation. I was so nervous my palms were sweating despite the freezing temperatures and I was worried that he might notice. "That save against Warrington where you did the loop thing was brilliant. We were all singing with the Gryffindors. Even Zacharias said you did well and you know what he thinks of you and Harry." 

I smiled and tried not to blush. He was gushing about the Quidditch game against Slytherin we'd played the weekend before. Just the thought of someone besides my mum gushing about my Keeper skills made my ears go red, let alone Justin actually doing it, but there it was, and I wanted to kiss him so badly. My eyes could not stray from his lips for more than a moment at a time. The urge had over-taken me when he turned to face me, slight grin on his face. I looked from his lips to his eyes and took a step closer, nervous. I'd never kissed anyone but Malfoy and I was certainly never allowed to initiate anything with him, so this was certainly new territory. "Would you mind… if I…" He froze, swallowing audibly, and for a moment I thought he might turn away. My nerve began to slip, but then he smiled again and nodded consent. I took the extra necessary step and after a few agonizingly slow inches, our mouths melted together. My world turned upside-down. This was amazing, mind-altering, on the same level as a kiss from Draco, but without the bruising or biting. And it was slow at first, tentative. Tongues were only brought in after what felt like hours. My free hand slid in place against his waist, holding him to me. He tasted like apple cider and cinnamon. He dropped my hand and cupped my face in his palms, his fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. 

His fingers in my hair was turning me on and I had to pull away before the temptation to strip him and have my wicked way with him became too strong. He was not Draco. This had to be taken slowly and treated delicately. His grin at me was wide when we parted lips and I couldn't help but grin back. "Want to go get a butterbeer?" 

"I could go for a butterbeer, yeah." 

I disentangled from him and took his hand and we headed for the Three Broomsticks. Once inside, I was faced with a dilemma. Harry, Hermione, Neville, and a few other members of the DA were sitting at a table together. Did Justin want to sit with them or find our own table? This was a date… Is it acceptable to sit with mutual friends when you're on a date? I remember Harry saying Cho went mental when he suggested meeting up with people. Would Justin? But the only free table was next to Malfoy's and I shuddered to think what his reaction to Justin was going to be. 

Enough of the internal struggle. I turned to Justin. He had been surveying the seating arrangements as well, but turned and smiled when I looked at him. "Want to sit with them? Or would you rather…" He looked nervously at the table next to Malfoy and I saw a flash of something akin to dislike in his eyes. He knew sitting next to him would be a bad idea without even having to know about Draco and I's history. 

I returned his smile and squeezed his hand, "With them is good." Harry was grinning from ear to ear as we pulled two chairs over to join the group. He turned to whisper something to Hermione as the others greeted us, but she only rolled her eyes and elbowed his side in return. 

Neville brought us up to speed with their conversation and we fell in with them. When Madame Rosmerta came over, I paid for the drinks and Justin beamed at me. I just smiled and took his hand under the table while continuing the conversation. The rest of the afternoon went by pleasantly and I got a goodbye kiss and a glimpse of the Hufflepuff common room when it was over. 

Back in the tower, I found a stuffed lion on my pillow, a toy dagger piercing its heart and its head ripped from its body, the stuffing charmed red to resemble blood oozing from its severed neck. 

- May 2 - 1997 - Sixth Year -

Harry and I were out by the lake with a chessboard between us, successfully avoiding Hermione and a lecture on the necessity of studying for end of year exams. It was warm and sunny out for the first time in a week and we were both happy to be outside in the fresh air after being trapped in a damp tower all week. Harry's rook had just dismantled my pawn a space before it was to become queen when the crunch of grass made us both look up, dreading Hermione's reproachful look. But it wasn't Hermione, it was worse. Malfoy, alone and grinning maliciously. Harry sat up, glaring, as he asked what the git was doing there. I lowered my eyes back to the board. We hadn't really spoken since the incident; rather I'd been avoiding him. The thought of him made me a bit skiddish and I'd begun to bite my nails to relieve the anxiety, a habit that drove Hermione nearly out of her mind. His maliciousness towards our group had increased ten-fold since I had stopped talking to him, although whether it had more to do with my silence or a new rumor that had sprung up concerning his sexuality I was unclear of. 

"I was out for a stroll and couldn't resist the temptation. I haven't had the chance to ask how Miss Lovegood is in bed and I've just been all of a dither with curiosity since I heard the rumor." 

I glanced at Harry, who was giving him a scathing look I didn't think he had in him, before moving my queen in line with his king, "Check." 

Harry ignored me, "Fuck you, Malfoy. Luna and I are friends, nothing more. You, of all people, should know not to listen to rumors. Or should I be asking about who you're shagging? I heard it's a bloke." 

"Who I'm shagging is none of your business, Potter." 

"So it is a bloke? Interesting. Wouldn't have pinned you for a queer." My eyes shot up to his face, feeling a bit hurt at the comment. He may have been the only one besides Malfoy to know about me, but that didn't give him the right to use that term, and especially not in front of me. 

"Harsh words for a Gryffindor. What would your precious Dumbledore think? Or that campaigning Mudblood for that matter?" 

"Sod off, Malfoy. We're busy." 

"Indeed, chess, there's a shock. I see you've allowed a Weasley to beat you once more." He seemed to have moved closer to peer at the board, his expensive leather shoes coming in contact with my arm. 

"Why are you still here, Ferret?" 

"I enjoy watching you lose." 

"Go bugger someone before we turn you into a slug." 

"I think you'd be alone on that, Weasley seems to have lost his ability to speak." 

I continued to look at Harry, "Check." 

Harry looked from me to the board then gave a flustered puff of air, "When did that happen?" I heard Malfoy snicker as Harry began to mutter as he decided his next move. Some time while he was moving his bishop in a block, Malfoy squatted next to me, his hand imperceptibly brushing my shoulder. I glanced up to see him watching me with a raised eyebrow. I looked back to the board to move again. I had no idea what he was playing at, but I was not about to take the bate. 

Three moves later, I could still feel him watching me. Harry seemed to have forgotten he was there in his struggle to evade my queen. Suddenly Malfoy's voice broke our contented silence. "Really want to know who I'm shagging, Potter?" I grew nervous, but pretended not to hear him. Harry looked at him and shrugged. "It's Weasley, for about six months. Fantastic shag, too." He was smirking and looking at me with a triumphant glint in his eye. I glared at him, my fist clenching. 

Harry looked appalled and about ready to cause him serious injury. "Sod off. Even if he was gay, he wouldn't ever look at you." 

"Is that right? Weasley, what do you say to that?" 

"Leave us alone, Malfoy." 

"I could have sworn I specifically asked Weasley, not you. Weasley?" He was looking at me expectantly and Harry's eyes were darting between us in uncertainty bordering on worry. 

I fiddled with a thin, leather bracelet Draco had given me a while before and examined the board. I let the bracelet go and reached across the board to move my bishop in place. "Checkmate." I didn't look at either of them as I stood up and brushed myself off. Draco stood as well, standing uncomfortably close. "I'm not gay, Malfoy, nor would I be interested in you if I was. Don't bother us any more, I'm tired of listening to you." I gave Harry, who was starring up at me in shocked silence, a nod and turned back towards the castle. I wasn't able to breathe again until I reached the library, where Hermione was camped out at a back table surrounded by books and looking delighted that I had decided to join her. I forced a smile and grabbed a book with a shaking hand and sat down to feign studying as my mind reeled. 


	12. Unforgivables and Fallen Chairs

A/N: thank you for your reviews, they were kind, if undeserved. i feel an apology is in order on my part due to the horrendous second scene in the last chapter. i wish i could go back in history and pretend it was never written and am extremely tempted to wipe it out and replace it with something a hundred times better (which, really wouldn't be the difficult, since it was aweful). i apologize to everyone that had to suffer through it. i promise this chapter is much much better. 

btw, i know that a lot of what's going on with the draco getting married, but then ending up at ron's flat 4 years later is confusing, but i promise, each chapter is slowly working to provide you all with an explaination. just be patient, we don't have much longer until this is finished. 

also, would still like further opinions on the question i posed last time. 

- chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 8.3 - 

- May 9 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

I don't know if hours or days passed, but when I woke up, it was dark outside and he was sleeping in a chair next to my bed, his head resting next to my thigh and his hand still in mine. I smiled to myself and ran my fingers through his hair. There was movement in the room and I looked up to see Madam Pomfrey fussing over Harry, still asleep, but looking as though he had more color. She glanced my way and hurried over when she saw that I was awake. "How do you feel, dear?" she whispered, pressing a cool hand to my forehead. 

"Like I've been attacked by a hippogriff," I muttered, wincing as she lightly pressed into my side. 

"You've been through quite a trauma, dear. Take this, it'll make you feel better." She handed me a vile with a pink potion in it and I eyed it before swallowing it down. It tasted horrific and it was all I could do not to wretch it back up. "I know, it tastes awful, but your pain should subside considerably." 

And she was right, of course, within seconds all my aches went down to dull twinges. I forced a smile and glanced at Harry, "How's he doing?" 

She looked over at him and then back at me with a comforting smile, "It was touch and go there for a while, but he should be fine. He's been asleep for quite a while now. He should wake up any day now." 

"How long have we been here?" 

"A week," came a groggy voice from my knees. I looked down to see him sitting up a little and examining my face, "How do you feel?" 

"I'll be fine. Have you been here the entire time?" 

"Yes, despite my protests. The stubborn prat _refused_ to leave." Pomfrey muttered, collecting a few viles from a near cupboard. If she was calling him a prat, I could only imagine the sorts of hell he'd raised against her to stay. 

Draco sneered at her, "I wasn't going to let him wake up without someone being here. And who's been the stubborn prat? You couldn't just let me stay; you had to keep buggering me. He's mine; I can stay with him if I want." 

My eyebrows shot up, "I'm yours? Since when?" 

He rolled his eyes at me, "Since I set up house in your arse, as you so eloquently put it." I must have turned bright red because my face was on fire. As soon as the words came out of his mouth, there was a crash and I looked to see that Madam Pomfrey had dropped a vile in shock and green liquid was oozing across the floor. 

"Mr. Malfoy, that was entirely uncalled for! I can not believe you would resort to such obscene language. I have a mind to send you straight to Dumbledore." 

He growled at her, "You know threatening to send me to that old goat won't work. I'm not leaving, and especially not now that he's awake. And besides, it isn't as though they were my words, anyway. I was quoting Weasel." His glower turned into a smirk as he turned to me. Pomfrey looked affronted, spoke a quick cleaning spell, and went to help what looked like a badly-beaten Snape on the other side of the ward. 

"You've offended her." 

He rolled his eyes, "She's been trying to kick me out this whole time. She deserves it." He look every bit a scandalized bird whose feathers had been ruffled, "Imagine, a common mediwitch telling me, a Malfoy, what to do. I think not." 

I chuckled at the look on his face and poked his arm, "Stop being so superior, you look like a peacock." 

He glared at me, "Near death does not afford you the right to speak to me that way, either, Weasley. Watch your tongue." 

"What are you going to do, put me in the hospital? Crucio me? Too late, already happened. You're just going to have too deal." 

He bristled and smoothed down his hair, "You do realize that I'm going to make you regret that comment as soon as you recover, correct?" 

"Uh-huh, sure you are, _love_." I emphasized the pet name he had used before just to get a reaction out of him. I smirked at the stricken look I received. 

"I was distraught, I thought you had died. Don't think it is going to become a regular thing. We are not a sodding couple." 

"If you say so, _love_." He only scowled. 

- April 10 - 1998 - Seventh Year - 

Care of Magical Creatures was turning into my worst subject. Ironic, indeed, considering one of my favorite people taught it, but it was one of the few classes I still had with Malfoy and the only one he had a chance of getting close to me in. He stood directly behind me almost every class and, using the pretense of making derogatory remarks in my ear, he'd press himself against me, whispering lewd things that made me shiver and tingle and want to turn around and devour him. I managed to hold my ground, though, usually, and only elbowed him or shoved him away once every week or so. Instead of shoving him/devouring him, I did my best to listen to Hagrid, who'd moved from Squirplicks to Sphinxes, although he was still unable to find one (thank Merlin). Unfortunately, my best listening usually ended up being a few words of Hagrid's and a whole string of sexual uses for hot wax and chocolate sauce. 

That's why it was a relief one Tuesday morning when Malfoy was blissfully missing from my hind quarters. Until I noticed that Harry was not on the other side of Hermione like he was supposed to be. Glancing around, I saw the glimpse of a human shadow peeking out from the side of Hagrid's hut and slipped out of the crowd to investigate, avoiding the reproachful look of Hermione. 

I could hear Harry's voice as I approached the edge of the shack, angry and frustrated. Then there was Malfoy's voice in return, his usual mocking tone, biting into Harry. I glanced to make sure no one was watching and rounded the corner to hear Harry spit a comment about Azkaban and Lucius Malfoy. His back was to me, but Malfoy was in full view and I saw him sneer as I approached, unnoticed. 

"I don't know if I'd mention Azkaban if I were you. Didn't your precious Godfather live there for thirteen years? Quite a bit longer than two months, I'd say." 

I watched Harry's fists clench and begin to shake in his fury. "Fuck you, Ferret! You don't know anything about Sirius! Leave him out of this." 

"You're the one that brought up Azkaban, Scarhead." Harry seemed too angry to respond. Draco's smirk widened, "You know, Potter, I don't think you have the right to chastise me for my association with Weasley. You're the one that's managed to have everyone you care about die. Perhaps you're the one who should stay away from him? For his own safety, of course." 

It wasn't until the flash of blue that sent Malfoy scrambling that I noticed Harry's wand. I was surprised that he used it, knowing Malfoy would have no problem retaliating with something infinitely worse if provoked to. And it wasn't as though it would take a lot to provoke him against someone like Harry. Personally, I'd have punched him, but of course, I knew what got to him a bit better than Harry did. I stepped up beside Harry, deciding that the situation needed to be stopped. Malfoy was cradling his lower abdomen as he straightened, visibly mustering any sense of dignity he still had. Harry's wand was still at the ready. 

"Put your wand down. He's not worth your effort." He looked surprised but did as I asked. Draco sneered at me. 

"Stay out, Weasley. This is between Potter and me." 

"No, this is between us. Stop dragging Harry in just because he knows about it." In the middle of speaking, I'd stepped in between them, and was slowly inching closer to Malfoy. 

Draco had his wand raised to point at my chest while his other hand still rested protectively over his stomach. "Weasley, I'm warning you. I will hex you into oblivion if you don't step out of this." 

"Go ahead, I think I can handle it." 

"Ron, maybe you should go back to class…" He was turning the hero again; I could hear it in his voice. I waved a hand in his general direction, not turning from Draco. If it meant that he was going to hurt me a little (it wouldn't have been a lot in the open air), then that was fine. I would not have Harry dueling over me. Draco had caused enough problems without hurting Harry. 

"This is between me and Draco, Harry. You go back to class." I had an inclination that Harry wasn't going to listen to me, but I'd managed to get close enough to Draco to make contact with his wand, still pointing at, and now poking into, my chest. Draco hadn't moved even a centimeter nor had he blinked for several seconds. "I want you to leave Harry be. He's got enough to deal with without you reminding him of every horrible thing that's happened in his life." 

"Why should I do that?" His lips turned up into a defiant smirk, almost challenging me with his eyes. I grinned. Not a happy-go-lucky-Justin-grin. No, this was a malicious grin that told Malfoy something that made his eyes widen and his shoulders stiffen slightly. "Why are you looking at me like that, Weasel?" 

"Like what, Draco?" I batted my eyelashes at him and knocked my head to the side, trying my best to look the picture of innocence. 

"Like…" And then his eyes turned into saucers and he looked around me to Harry with a certain haughty fanaticism only he could muster. "Potter, get the _fuck_ back to class! _Now_!" I smirked to myself before I felt arms around me and his lips were crushed against mine so hard I thought they might bruise. It was like a room full of the twins's fireworks had gone off in my head. Happy my message had gotten through, I momentarily forgot all about Harry and wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling in his hair. He groaned into my mouth and edged me back until I was sandwiched against the wall of Hagrid's hut. Merlin, he felt good. Mental beratements for having deprived myself of his touch and his lips and those hips pressed so firmly against mine ran rampant and I was so elated to have finally shut myself up and given in that I didn't even notice the shingles digging into my back. He let go of my waist for a moment to slide his hands inside my robes, under my un-tucked shirt to scratch lines down my sides. I moaned and pulled him tighter to me, wanting to be closer, so much closer. His clothes needed to be burned, ripped to shreds, destroyed. He had no right to walk around in them when his silky skin could be pressing against mine. 

I was nowhere near ready to pull away when he left me, panting and reaching with nothing to grab. I was brought back into the present by the sound of chatter coming from my right. Draco was smoothing out his hair and glancing at our classmates, passing by without noticing us. I moved away from the wall and tried to pretend we hadn't been snogging the life out of each other. Harry was staring at me with a look of transfixed horror and I felt my ears go red as I scratched my head. What was I to say? Was there even a phrase you could utter in a situation like this? 

I'd only managed to mumble a few incoherent words before Draco had me pinned to the wall again, mouth determined to devour mine. He apparently did not care that Harry was watching us, but my ears had become molten and I put hands to his biceps, gently pushing him away. He only acquiesced when I stopped responding to the kiss, pulling back enough to press our foreheads together, panting slightly. "What is it now, Weasley?" 

"We can't do this now. Not in front of Harry." 

"Sod Potter, it's his choice to be a voyeur, isn't it?" His hand had snaked into my robes again and had managed to slide all the way down the back of my trousers to fondle my opening. 

I squirmed a bit and stifled a moan, glancing at Harry only to freeze. Harry was no longer standing there. He was already half-way up to the castle. Draco's lips were attached to my pulse point, nibbling softly, entirely distracted until I pushed him away so that I could catch up to Harry and explain. Unfortunately, Draco had other ideas, and before I could take two steps, my arm was clenched in his grip and I was slammed against the wall. "I don't think so, Weasley. Do you have any idea how long it's been? Any idea at all?" he growled in my ear. 

I watched Harry disappear from sight before sighing and looking at him. "I know that, but we can't exactly do it right here in the open, with Hagrid and Fang not far away, can we?" 

"Yes, well, we'll just have to meet behind the tapestry in ten minutes, won't we?" 

"But we have class…" 

His eyes flashed anger, "Fuck class. What do you have? Muggle Studies? All you need to know about muggles is that they are vermin that need to be removed." 

I glared at him, "That isn't true. Let go of me, I'm leaving." I struggled against him, but he just pressed against me even harder. 

"No, Weasel. I am not going through this again. You started this and you are going to finish it." He was growling again, his face contorted into a snarl. 

I closed my eyes momentarily against the onslaught of screaming, frustrated voices in my head. "Please, Draco… I can't do this. Not… not now. Harry is going to be so angry with me…" 

"Bloody fucking hell, Weasel! Since when does Potter have a say in _our_ sex life? Is he coming too, or something?" his face flashed horror and he took a step away. "He's not… You're not…Fuck, Weasley, he is fucking touching you! Is that why you ended it with that filthy fucking Mudblood and yet won't fuck me? You're fucking Potter?" He was shouting by now and I went into a panic, wondering how Hagrid was not hearing him. 

"Keep your voice down. Merlin…" He gave me a seething glare and I sheepishly looked at the ground. "You say 'fuck' a lot, do you realize that?" 

"You didn't answer the question." His voice was ice cold and he looked to be trembling with rage, his fingers twitching over the pocket he'd put his wand in before accosting me. 

"No, Harry and I are not sleeping together. We've already covered the fact that I don't think he's attractive. And he certainly isn't you." 

"Yeah well, you were shagging that Mudblood for practically forever, how am I supposed to know who you're shagging now?" 

"It would be you if you'd relax enough to let me go talk to Harry and explain before he stops speaking to me again." 

"Don't speak to me that way, Weasley. I've already lost my patience with you. Besides, it's too late anyway, he already thinks we're going to fuck. He won't believe you if you go off and tell him different. No point in disappointing." 

I shook my head, my bottom lip crushed between my teeth. Draco gave an indiscernible whine and rubbed the bridge of his nose, almost looking tired. "I really didn't want to resort to this, but you've left me with no choice." His wand flashed and suddenly my mind was like an empty room, silent except for echoes of his instructions. I was walking without looking back and, once in the castle, I took the most direct route to the tapestry. I sat in my chair and stared blankly at the entrance as I was instructed. His smirk was triumphant as he made his way down the steps and over to me a few minutes later. I only stared up at him without moving. Until 'Finite Incantatem' left his lips and all thought surged back into my brain, along with a searing anger at having been manipulated. I tried to stand as I opened my mouth to yell at him, but was abruptly shoved back into the chair, and he leaned over me with a knee resting on the chair between my legs. He only made me angrier, "I can't believe that you would be thick enough to put me under another Unforgivable and then think you are getting anywhere with me after the last time you did something like this to me. You're completely mental. I'm not touching you." 

His eyes were glittering and he had that malicious little smirk that always infuriated me. His fingertips traced my jaw as he spoke. "Now, now Weasley, I did warn you. If you'd just cooperated, we could have been here a lot sooner." His fingers trailed down my throat to my collar and he grabbed my tie, pulling me up to meet his mouth. The kiss was luxurious, hot, needy; his tongue insistent on gaining entrance to my mouth. When he pulled away, the smirk had disappeared but his eyes still glittered down at me. "See how nice that was? How good it felt? Doesn't it make you want to play?" he purred, one hand trickling down to rub against the outside of my pants. 

I closed my eyes against the moan I was fighting to utter and managed a 'no' instead. Further pressure was applied to my groin and he growled just a little bit. I was beginning to get lost in him again, in those eyes that had stopped glittering and begun to smolder with pent up anger and lust. He leaned down again and bit down on my lip hard enough to break skin before sucking the blood out. I moaned despite myself, and felt his grin as he kissed me, leaning further into the chair. I was so wrapped up in his feeling that it took his cool hand wrapping around me for me to realize he had been pulling at my clothing. All thoughts of protest immediately left my head. My hands were fumbling with his clothing, but they were trembling so hard from desire that unbuttoning his demented shirt was nearly impossible and I had to rip a few buttons to get it off. Tugging open his trousers, I freed him from the black silk that encased him and he groaned into my mouth, pushing farther into me. 

Apparently, that last push was one too many and the two back legs the chair had been balancing on gave way underneath us, forcing us back onto the ground with a great crash. We were a little too caught up in what we were doing to care, though, and only continued to stroke and grind into each other, our lips permanently sealed together. I tugged harder on him and he growled into my mouth, leaning up a bit to pull my trousers and boxers entirely off. I grinned and leaned up into him, allowing him to pull my ankles up to rest against his shoulders as he positioned to enter. At that point, I didn't even care that he was going to rip me open like some hapless virgin being fucked by a mutant zucchini without even precum to smooth the entrance. I welcomed the tidal wave of sweet, sweet pain as he tore into me, calling out and gripping his hips to pull him further inside, relishing in being whole again and so full of him I could burst. Our pace was furious and frantic and so infuriatingly amazing that I'd abandoned all coherent thought, muttering babble as we moved as one. He kissed my lips, my cheek, my jaw, bit down on my Adam's apple and nibbled on my collar bone, all the time making me almost insane with the force of him. It was a battle of wills to see who could come first, who could reach that ultimate precipice of life-altering, unending bliss. And when it finally came, we were screaming and groaning and biting at each other and so lost I didn't think we'd ever be right again, and I certainly never wanted to be. 

Afterwards, he collapsed onto my chest, panting and shaking and kissing every spare centimeter of skin his lips could reach. I wrapped my arms around him and fought to breathe, my body alight with the tingling sensation of perfection. He was muttering, but his voice was muffled in my shoulder and I didn't catch it until he'd made his way up to my ear, "What were you thinking? I can't believe you would ever give this up, you stupid, thoughtless, stubborn fucking ponce. The best fuck of your life and you'd give it up to maintain some rubbish idea of morals. You're so thick, sometimes, you know that?" I giggled as his teeth nibbled on my earlobe and I stopped listening to his rant, opting instead to run my fingers through his hair. He continued on for several minutes before finally settling down with his nose in my neck. 

"Hey, Draco?" I was answered by a moan of acknowledgement. "Can we move to the couch or something? The chair back's kind of digging into my back." And it was, with my hips still on it and my shoulders on the floor, it was sticking right up into my lower back, pushed even further by Draco's weight on top of me. He lifted his head to look at me, sighing before sitting up, pulling my up with him. My arms were wrapped around his neck and I did the same with my legs around his waist as he stood up and headed over to the couch that was nearly a chair again. He groaned when he saw it and set me in his chair before turning to find his wand. After he'd re-lengthened it, he fell onto it and I went over to crawl on top of him. I fell asleep to his fingers combing through my hair. 

-

ps: thank you goddess cassie, you wonderful girl, you, for betaing this chapter and fixing my silly mistakes. and for your wonderful reviews that never cease to amuse and excite me :) 


	13. A Suit of Armor and a NonExistent Apolog...

A/N: thanks for the reviews, they were highly amusing and probably the best i've gotten for this story :) 

- chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chaper 13.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 13.3 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 13.1 - chapter 8.3 -

- June - 2000 -

Anger is a brilliant motivator, especially when you're a scorned lover. Once my time of grieving for my own stupidity had ended, I set to work. I joined Harry at the ministry in Auror training. I worked harder than I had ever worked at school, learned more, did better, than I would have had I not had the image of his cruel smirk haunting my every moment. I was determined to see him in as much anguish as I was in, and with the knowledge I had of his work with the Death Eaters, I had a good chance of success. I worked diligently, stayed late nights, plotted carefully.

It was a two years before I saw him again, sitting in a café with his wife and what appeared to be their daughter. He was taller than before, his hair longer, and his features hardened. He looked arrestingly like his father. I was meeting with Hermione and Neville for lunch and passed him on the way to their table. I ignored him as I passed, but I could sense his eyes on me and cursed the warmth that spread throughout my body at his glance. My heart was racing and I could feel my fingers shaking slightly, but I straightened my shoulders and tried to ignore it as I sat with my friends. Hermione noticed my stiff posture and raised an eyebrow at me before noticing Malfoy and his family behind us. "Ron.."

"Don't. I don't want to talk about it. As far as I'm concerned, he does not exist."

She looked as though she wanted to say more, but one look closed her mouth. Neville had seen what we were talking about and had the good grace to change the subject. "Ginny says hello."

"Really? When did you talk to her?"

He avoided my eyes and his voice cracked a little, "Last night. We um… we went to dinner."

The prospect of Neville dating my sister took my mind momentarily off of Malfoy and I relaxed just a bit, "You did, did you? And did she stay over?"

His eyes went wide and Hermione and I shared a smirk. "She um… well, um… not exactly…"

"Neville, relax. I know you are sleeping with my sister. She told me last week."

His eyes remained the size of saucers, "And you don't hate me?"

"No, not entirely, although if you hurt her in any way you will die," I stated threateningly. Neville cowered in fear and took a drink of his water to settle himself. I let him squirm for a minute more before nudging him with a smirk, "I'm only joking.Other thanHarry, you're the best person I could think of to be with Gin. I'll leave you to it as long as you don't shamelessly break her heart, which I don't think you're capable of."

He slouched in relief and grinned at me, "Good, I'm glad, because I really like your sister, a lot."

"I know you do. And I'm glad that you do. You both deserve some happiness after this bloody war…" We all looked at our plates, but then Hermione perked up a bit and grinned. "What is it?"

"You know that guy I told you about that I met at the hospital?"

"Yes…" Not another boyfriend, please no. I was not in the mood to hear about another female close to me becoming attached to a man that potentially had a death warrant.

"Well, we were talking yesterday, and… he asked me to go to the Puddlemere game with him next Thursday. He's got box seats!"

"Brilliant, you can see Oliver." I forced a smile, mentally grimacing at the prospect of her dating another healer. The last bastard had apparently been sleeping with another medi-witch as well, and Harry and I had had to be physically restrained from putting our Auror training to use and killing the slimy git.

Neville seemed less apprehensive about her dating someone new and began to ask her questions about him. I sat back and half-listened, paying more attention to my food as my mind wandered to the man sitting three tables behind me. Our lunch went by peacefully, and before I knew it, Hermione had to get back to St. Mungo's. We said goodbye to her and Neville and I headed down the street to waste the extra half an hour we had before heading back to the Ministry. Five minutes into our stroll, he clamped a hand to his head and muttered a frantic exclamation that he had forgotten about paperwork that needed to be done. He was suddenly gone with a loud pop and I found myself alone in Diagon Alley, mind wandering back to a certain blonde wizard whose demise I was slowly developing.

I turned into a smaller alley somewhere between Diagon and Knockturn Alley and found myself in a hidden potions shop that specialized in darker ingredients than anything you'd find on a Hogwarts list. The shop was dimly lit and filled with shelf after shelf of peculiar objects in jars. I had wandered to the back of the shop and was perusing an isle of pickled animal claws when I sensed a presence near me and suddenly a familiar form was pressed against my back and lips curled around my ear. "I hope you weren't thinking that I was going to pretend not to see you in the café, Weasley, because you'll be sorely disappointed."

I stepped away from him and turned to face that calculating gaze that held something so familiar to me and yet so foreign, lust. I scowled at him in response, "I never even gave you a second thought, Malfoy."

He stepped closer, his smirk turning predatory, and I tried to step back again, but only met with the shelf. "You've always been a horrid liar, Weasley. You haven't been able to get me out of your head since you saw me."

I tried to scoff and turned to feign interest in a jar filled with badger paws, "I see you've produced an heir; your life's purpose should be about complete, shouldn't it?" "Nice subject change, there, Weasley." He was pressed up against me again and my skin was tingling in anticipation of the lascivious activity his proximity always seemed to promise. I fought my body's urge to turn and ravish him, strip the expensive velvet from his body and shag him right on the shop floor with the owner hovering over the counter up front.

"How is Daddy doing, by the way? I imagine he's a bit antsy with the upcoming execution and all. Are you going to see him off to hell or stay home and count your money? Me, I'm planning on going. I can't wait to watch him writhe in agony."

His fingers slid up and around my waist, fiddling with the lowest button to hold my robes closed, his lips hot against my ear again, "As much as I can't wait to see the bastard die, I'll be in Italy seeing to the comfort of little Amelia and my wife. They'll be moving into the family villa on the coast. Pansy finds the Mediterranean more to her liking and I couldn't possibly leave England with my financial obligations…" He had managed to slide his hand into my loose trousers and was languidly stroking me through my under shorts. As soon as his voice stopped its husky massage of my earlobe, I snapped back into reality and took a hold of his wrist, pulling his hand from my pants.

"That's lovely, Malfoy, good to know your marriage is going so well that your wife finds it necessary to leave the country. I can certainly sympathize with her desire to be rid of you." I pulled myself from him and stepped away, reaching into my pocket for my wand.

"Now, now, Weasel, I seem to remember a time when you were begging me to stay with you. It's hard to believe your sentiment could change so quickly."

"So quickly? It's been over two years, Malfoy. I don't consider that quickly by any means. I hope you don't think that anything between us is going to be rekindled just because your bloody wife is on the Continent. I meant what I said at graduation and I'm certainly not going to back down now." Before he could respond, I apparrated to the Leaky Cauldron and disappeared inside to Floo back to work.

- May 5 - 1997 - Sixth Year -

I was walking to Muggle Studies alone, my mind wandering to the muggle concept of ekletrixity and my dad's collection of plugs. There was a test coming and I still had no idea what the basic concept was and how magic was not involved. My name was called down the hallway, but it was his voice so I did not look up or pause in my progress, only stiffened slightly. The confrontation with Harry had made me not only weary of him, but very angry. I'd had to endure two days of Harry's indignation that Malfoy would even joke about something like he and I being together and it was more conversation involving Malfoy than I liked to participate in. My name was called again, closer, and I noticed that there was a different tone to his speech. I ignored it and continued on my way.

The third time he said my name was with a hand placed on my shoulder. He stopped me and turned me to look at him with a noted lack of force. His eyes were searching and a bit worried, but there was no malice within them. Something different, very different, and yet my heart still fluttered fearfully. "Ron… are you alright?"

I snatched my arm away from him and glared, "Don't touch me."

His brow furrowed, "Why not? You haven't responded to me in over a week. I thought after that thing with Potter, you'd have at least come to yell at me." He tried for a smile, but it quickly turned back into a frown.

Not amused, I took a step away from him and met with the wall, "You went too far this time. You really hurt me. I can't let that happen again." My voice was shaking and his eyes went dark, but still held no anger.

He closed the gap between us and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my bangs as he pulled me to him, before resting his chin atop my head. I was terrified and never hated more the fact that he'd come back from the previous summer several inches taller than me. I was fighting the sensation of being home that always came over me when I was enveloped in his arms. "You scared me. You know how I feel about that word. I had to prove to you that it doesn't exist. I didn't mean to be as rough as I was." His voice was low and whispered into my hair as he pressed his cheek to my forehead, kissing it once more. Half my body wanted to shove him away while the other half wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and bury my nose in his neck. I settled for standing motionless, my heart relaxing its frantic beating a little as the fear began to dissipate.

"Is this some kind of apology?"

"Malfoy's don't apologize, but if we did… this might qualify."

"Who says I'll accept it?"

"You haven't pulled away yet." I didn't answer, but remained tucked away in the folds of his arms. I never made it to Muggle Studies.

- June 7 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

It was just after finishing ceremony and Draco and I were standing in a corner of the Entrance Hall, quietly discussing whether it was a good idea to properly introduce him to my family. "I don't know, Love, your family hates me. I don't see how a proper introduction could relax that situation."

"Draco, you don't know my family. If I tell them that I care for you, they will accept you. They might not like you, but they'll give you a chance."

He seemed skeptical and began twirling a lock of my hair between his fingers, "I'm not sure I'm ready for that, Love…"

"Please?" My hands were resting on his forearms and I gave them a small squeeze of encouragement.

He smiled softly, but there was still a bit of skepticism in his eyes as he opened his mouth to respond. I never got to hear it because an icy voice behind him split the quiet cocoon we'd been wrapped in, "Draco."

Draco looked up, shock resonating in his face for only a moment before his whole body stiffened and his expression turned to stone, "Father." Confused, I turned to face Lucius Malfoy in regal robes of dark velvet, starring down his son.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy." I think my voice squeaked, but I was an adult now and I was not going to let fear get in the way of speaking cordially to my boyfriend's father, no matter how much his presence sent me into chills to counter walking through Sir Nicolas.

Lucius acted as though I did not exist, "We are leaving. Your mother is waiting in the carriage."

I turned to Draco, expecting a reaction, some kind of explanation as to what the bloody hell his father was doing, not only out of Azkaban, but at Hogwarts, or at least an indication that I was alive and standing there with my hands curled around his arms. Draco was like a suit of armor. "Yes, Father." His father never looked at me as he turned to leave, something I guess I should have expected, and Draco brushed by me with the same air, but I grabbed his wrist. He paused and glanced at me with that cruelty that I had almost forgotten in the time after the Battle. "May I help you with something, Weasel?"

I momentarily lost the ability to speak. In the meantime, Draco tried to pull his hand away, giving me a glare that told me I had no right to touch him, and in that moment, the anger snapped back into me with such force that I growled, "What are you doing, Malfoy? Your father mysteriously shows up out of nowhere and you turn to stone? I did not go through all the rubbish I did with you to let you do this."

His father was standing within my range of vision, waiting expectantly, and Draco's nose was in the air in a manner that mimicked him, "I've not the slightest idea what you're speaking of. Let go of my arm." I am not entirely sure, but I believe it was the cold grey of his eyes that set my anger into a ferocity all too familiar, but that had not surfaced for quite longer than recent memory afforded me. I lunged at him, shoving him to the ground, and began to throw blow after blow without pause or thought. I was screaming at him, but I do not know what I said. It only took him a few minutes to take control and I found myself on my back with my hands pinned above my head and his wand at my throat. His voice was cold, calculated, and low enough to be a mumble to our audience, including his father who seemed only mildly interested in our fray. "Weasley, if you don't stop this right now, I will kill you. I don't know why he is here or how he got out, but it doesn't matter now. This must happen. You were entertaining, and yes, I may have developed an affection for you. However, I am betrothed to Pansy and have been since birth. An heir must be produced. There is no alternative. You will accept this and you will leave me be or I will make you beg for death. Understand?"

My skin was on fire and my chest was heaving in furious breaths. My teeth clenched to the point of pain as I spoke, "Produce your heir, enjoy your money, but know that this ends here. You will never touch me again if you leave me today. Never."

The cruel smile I had grown to detest oozed onto his lips, "Whether I walk out today or not, you will always be mine. Always." He let me go, stood up, brushed himself off in an attempt to look dignified, and followed his father out without a glance or a word more.

I was not going to cry. Even as Harry pulled me up from the ground, I refused to allow moisture to my eyes. He did not deserve the privilege. Harry straightened my robes and my hair for me and took me to my family, our family, which he had shuffled into the Great Hall at the beginning of Malfoy's and my confrontation. I mentally thanked him, and I think he understood. I did not speak though, even days later, not a word.

* * *

A/N: thanks goes out to my lovely beta - cassie. all bow down to her greatness 


	14. Deux Jours de la SaintValentin

A/N: happy valentine's day. i may be in complete agreeance with sarah michelle gellar in that "Valentine's Day is a masochistic holiday," but that won't stop me from writing a comparison chapter. i thought it would be appropriate, considering this is chapter 14 on the 14 of february. hope you enjoy and please tell me which v-day you like better. personally, i'm all about the chocolate sauce :) 

- chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 14.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chaper 13.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 14.2 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 13.3 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 13.1 - chapter 8.3 -

- February 14 - 1997 - Sixth Year -

Hermione had been missing from the Common Room since before dinner and Harry was entertaining a mystery girl he refused to give me any information about. I'd been trying to do my Transfiguration homework for an hour, but there was nothing doing. Every couple in third year or below was off in a corner giggling and blushing at bloody hand-holding like it was the most intimate act in existence. Didn't they know that some people were without dates and thus disgusted with having to see others all cuddly? Bloody rude, that is. Bloody Valentine's Day. Stupid card companies.

Frustrated at being the only Gryffindor without a significant other (Malfoy still refused to be referred to as one and was probably off entertaining Parkinson or some other rubbish), I packed up and went up to the dorms to avoid one more silly kiss on the cheek. When I reached my bed, I was surprised to find a box with a scrap of parchment tucked under it. Confused, I set my bag down and unwrapped the box. Inside, surrounded by green tissue paper, was a thin leather bracelet. I smiled to myself, slipped it on, and took up the note. "9 sharp. This has nothing to do with bloody Valentine's Day so don't even bring it up if you don't want me to hex you. Don't be late. -D"

Grinning, I check my watch. Fifteen minutes. I tucked the box and my bag away in my trunk and headed down to make my way to the tapestry. A few staircases later, I slid behind the clothe and went to sit down, shucking my trousers as I went. The bowl of strawberries was present, no grapes, and next to it was a bowl of melted chocolate. I stuck my finger in to taste it, yelped, and sucked it off, trying to sooth my burnt finger in the process. The chocolate felt like melted wax or hot tea just out of the kettle. What was the use if you couldn't even eat it without getting burned?

"Did you touch the food before I said you could, again?" I looked up to see him standing by the stairs with a raised eyebrow.

"You're early."

"No, I'm on time. You're early. And apparently eating the food." He sauntered over and I thought maybe he would hurt me, but he only pulled me out of the chair by my tie. His lips found mine and before I knew what was happening, I was being laid out on the carpet in only my tie and my left sock. Draco was kneeling between my legs and he bent my knee to rid me of the lone sock, eyes locked with mine in a predatory stare. Once I was down to just the tie, he crawled over my body, his own body left without even a tie, and attacked my lips again. I moaned and dug my fingers in his hair, one of my legs automatically wrapping around him to keep him close.

After a few minutes, he pulled away and lifted up on one hand to bring the fruit and chocolate down to the floor near my arm. I could feel the heat still radiating off the chocolate bowl. Draco gave me a sadistic little grin, dipped a strawberry in the molten chocolate and leaned down to write 'muggle-lover' on my chest. I hissed and arched away at the pain the heat burned into me skin, but Draco continued, un-fazed until it was complete.

"Are you trying to burn my skin off? Bloody Hell…"

"Relax, Weasley, this is going to be fun. Very fun." His grin widened a notch before he leaned down to lick and suck the cooling word off my chest. I moaned at the sweet sensation of his sucking my aching skin, soothing the burgeoning welts. "See?" I only grunted and pulled his face up to kiss me again, tasting the chocolate on his lips as my tongue wandered into his mouth. He soon pulled away once more and dipped down to write crookedly on my stomach "Blood-Traitor" before repeating the sucking process. Within half an hour, my upper body was covered in red welts spelling out: "Poor", "Worthless", "Potter's Shadow", "Witless", "Gryffindork", "Weasel", "Mine", and just to the right and left of my groin on my pelvis "D" and "M". By the time he'd gotten to "Mine" and "D. M.", I was panting and writhing beneath his touch and all but begging to be properly and thoroughly fucked. It didn't take much convincing for him to oblige me and oblige me he did.

Still panting, he lay to the side of me, his eyes closed and a thin sheen of sweat glimmering off his chest. He looked delicious. I dipped a strawberry in the still burning hot chocolate and leaned over him to write "Slimy Ferret" down his flank. His eyes opened instinctively at the first touch. "What are you doing?"

I flashed him a grin and began to suck away the sweet confection. "Playing." He gave a low, loud groan and arched up to my lips. I watched him slowly lose his senses as I continued, just as I had done under him. By the time he'd shoved me onto my back and begun to thrust into me again, "Git", "Prat", "Spoiled", "Deatheater", and "R. W." gleamed off his chest and arms in raised red lines. I was pleased to have taken back his body from You-Know-Who and reclaimed it as my own, especially now that a glammer covered his marred black scar so that only the two of us and those present at its conception knew of its existence.

Later, I lay with my cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat. His fingers were running up and down my spine, massaging slowly. After a long silence I looked up at him, "Why aren't you with Pansy?"

"Because I'd rather not have to be all lovey-dovey romantic when I have the opportunity to torture you into begging me to fuck you."

"Won't she be mad?"

"She can stay mad all she likes. She's starting to get on my nerves anyway." We stayed quiet after that and I would have fallen easily asleep had he not nudged me off and stood to dress. He left me with a searing, insistent kiss that left my knees weak and my heart fluttering.

- February 14 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

I wasn't sure if flowers were appropriate to get for another boy, but I bought him a rose anyway. Just one, I didn't want to overdo anything in case I was being silly. I waited for him outside the Hufflepuff entrance, somewhat nervous. When he came out, I was pleased to see how good he looked in a simple dress shirt and trousers. He was grinning and I took the opportunity to kiss that grin before giving him the rose and taking his hand; and then we headed up to the seventh floor. "How are you?"

"Excellent, you?"

"Very good. You look good, by the way."

He grinned wider and his cheeks slightly pinked. "Thanks, so do you." I stole a kiss from his cheek and we continued to walk in silence for a minute before he started talking about a nefarious plot of the Slytherins' to steal Professor Vector's test answers. We made it up the Room of Requirement and I made him stand against the far wall and clear his mind before pacing in front of the wall where the door normally appeared. After the third turn, the thick wooden door appeared and I grinned at Justin.

"Close your eyes, this is a surprise." He did so and I took his hand, leading him into the softly candle-lit room and shutting the door behind us. A large blanket sat in the middle of the floor now carpeted with soft, squishy grass, the ceiling was charmed to reflect a starry, perfectly clear night sky, and the sounds of crickets could be heard chirping from somewhere around us. The blanket was set for two and covered in picnic foods and sweets. I grinned to myself, pleased that the Room had managed to make things exactly as I had wanted them. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and leaned my chin on his shoulder to whisper in his ear, "You can open them now."

There was a small gasp of surprise and pleasure and he reached for one of my hands, squeezing it. "Ron, this is perfect." I smiled and nibbled on his earlobe and he squirmed slightly, batting at my arm before turning around in my arms. His hands wandered into my hair and pulled my face down to kiss him and I reveled in the smooth feel of his tongue languidly fondling mine. I let out a little contented moan and pulled him tighter for a moment before deciding that pulling away would be an intelligent idea. I was near ravishing him and we had still barely made it past groping, let alone nudity and the use of lubrication. Although 'taking it slow' was beginning to make me impatient (Malfoy and I had never really even considered the concept when we began, having stripped each other nearly naked on the first go and having fucked by the second), I was not willing to rush him. Justin was far less experienced than I was and, I suspected, this would be his first time.

"Shall we?" I asked after breathlessly moving my lips from his. His eyes twinkled as he nodded and turned to take a seat. I did the same, took his plate and filled it, handed it back, and then reached to fill my own. We ate quietly, drifting in and out of conversation, both of us content to just be in each other's presence.

At dessert, the rest of the food disappeared, leaving the blanket half-empty. We scooted closer together and shared a kiss before I fed him a chocolate-covered banana slice. There weren't any strawberries, thankfully, and I think the Room knew that I did not want any sharing of Draco with Justin. That would taint this relationship and I was not prepared to allow that. He took the fruit gratefully and chewed for a few seconds before leaning in for another kiss. We continued for a while, intermittently kissing and feeding one-another, until things became a bit more hasty. He had wandered into my lap and was straddling my hips, his fingers back in my hair, driving me insane. I trailed kisses down his neck and let my hands wander up the back of his shirt to smooth out against his warm skin. He let out a little sound of pleasure and ground deeper into my lap, the kiss turning hungry and almost feral. I followed his lead, tugging him closer. His fingers trailed down my back until they reached the hem of my jumper and tugged. Surprised, I let him pull it over my head, along with my t-shirt, and let out a moan when he began to lick and suck at my collar bone. Curious by this new development, I decided to see how far he was willing to take this and made to unbutton his shirt. He didn't protest and shrugged it off when it was finished. He kissed me again, cupping my face in his hands and pushing against me, our skin pressing together for the first time. We both moaned and deepened the kiss further.

His insistent pressing eventually had my on my back with him sprawled out on top of me and he began kissing down my chest. I had an inkling of where he was going when his fingers traced delicately down my sides to meet at my zipper. Worried that this was going too fast, I tugged him up to kiss him before pulling back to look into his eyes. "You don't have to do this if you aren't ready, you know."

He let out an impatient puff of air and rolled his eyes. "Look, I know you think that because I'm a Hufflepuff, I'm all helpless and fragile, and such, but I'm not. This isn't my first time and I'm not made of glass, so stop treating me like I am and hurry up and get on with it. All this groping with no satisfaction is getting me just a bit impatient."

I was taken aback for a moment, but then the forceful sound of his demand reached my groin and I growled, rolling him onto his back and devouring him. He giggled and returned the kiss with as much fervor. His fingers began to fumble with my zipper once more and soon I was kicking my trousers away and doing my best to get rid of his as well. I kissed a trail down his neck to his chest, flicking my tongue out at each nipple in turn. He arched up at the contact and a little moan escaped his lips. I grinned to myself and continued south, nibbling on the tiny flap of skin above his belly button (to which he let out a much louder moan), before removing his boxers. I took a minute crouched in the junction of his legs just to look at him. He was beautiful, splayed out and completely open for me to take.

He began to squirm as the seconds passed and I lowered my lips to the soft flesh of his inner thigh, leaving a trail of light kisses up his leg. I moved my kisses to the other thigh, deciding that, despite his requests for the opposite, I was going to take this slow. Whether it was his first time or not, this was still _our_ first time, and that warranted patience and enough time to savor the first touches. He whined in protestation and I finally obliged him, relishing in the loud groan he gave when I finally took him in my mouth. His hand found its way into my hair to help me along as he squirmed and bucked below me. I lifted up before he could finish and crawled back up to his lips where mine were thoroughly consumed. While I groped around for my wand, he kissed across my cheek to my ear, panting as he nibbled on it. "I've been waiting for you to be inside me since our first kiss."

My eyes widened as I looked down at him in shock, "What?"

"What? We are having sex, right? Please don't tell me we aren't."

My search for my wand was successful and I relaxed into him, still slightly stricken. "Well, yeah, I hope we are… It's just… er, I've never… um…" My ears felt hot and I looked at his shoulder to avoid his look.

"Okay, you are not allowed to tell me you're a virgin. I know you've been with someone, everyone knows you've been with someone. I don't know who, but Neville is Head Boy if you're still a virgin."

My eyes grew even hotter, "No! I'm definitely not a virgin. It's just… I was always bottom. I've never been the one in charge…"

His eyes lit up and he giggled, leaning up to capture my lips. I responded to the kiss, allowing his tongue entrance. "Ron, please, before I die or explode or something." I laughed and said the proper spells to prepare before slipping into him. He moaned, a grin playing at his lips, and pulled me down to kiss him again. I went slow, still wanting to savor this. It was so peculiar to be inside another human being, and yet so incredibly wonderful. He was warm and tight and I thought I would go insane right there, but I managed to keep going, although mental clarity most definitely left me.

He was talkative in a way that Draco never was. He whispered strained instructions and words of approval and occasionally a mumbled word or three of affection when I hit a particularly sensitive spot. I had thought that perhaps the passion that I felt with Draco would be missing, but it wasn't. It was just concentrated on affection and emotional need rather than a physical need to harm each other. We were relaxed and tranquil, blissful even, and I took my time, stringing things out, basking in him. When we came, it was as one, and so sweet I thought I might die. I buried my nose in his neck and panted until my body stopped shaking. Once we'd both calmed down, I rolled onto my back and he leaned his head on my shoulder, cuddling into my side.

"This is quite possibly the best date I've ever been on." I laughed as I wrapped my arms around him.

"You're ridiculous."

"And you're comfortable. Let's stay here tonight. I don't want to go back to the dorms."

"You'd rather sleep in the grass?"

"Not comfortable?"

"No, it is. We can stay if you want."

"I do."

"Okay." We were quiet and shortly afterwards, I felt his breathing slow and he was asleep. I stayed up for much longer, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about what had just happened.

The next morning when I finally made it back up to the dorms, there was a box wrapped in silver on my pillow. Inside was a pair of green silk boxers and three chocolate-covered strawberries. The note on top read: "Midnight. For old time's sake?" The look on Draco's face when I entered the Great Hall told me I'd missed the appointment. I smirked at him and went over to the Hufflepuff table to sit next to Justin, wrapping an arm around him and kissing his cheek. There was a loud yelp from the Slytherin table as Goyle's goblet shattered for no apparent reason.

* * *

A/N: thank you to cassie once more for your brilliant betaing, i am forever in your debt :) 


	15. Lost and Found with Harry Potter

A/N: thank you for you kind reviews :) i've been steadily workin on the story and am two sections away from finishing up. i've already got chapter 16 all ready, just have to type up a scene for 17 and finish the last bit of 18 and then i'll be completely finished. i'm kind of excited to have this one finished so that i can move on to my other, more complex story, that i've slowly been cultivating. that won't be surfacing for quite a while though. anyway, just wanted to give you a heads up on there only being three more chapters. they should all be out soon, so all your answers will be given shortly. 

- chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 14.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chaper 13.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 14.2 - chapter 15.3 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 15.2 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 15.1 - chapter 13.3 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 13.1 - chapter 8.3 -

- May 13 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

Once my health began to improve, Draco was finally convinced to go back to his dorm. I was amazed at the change my near-death had caused in him. He visited often, almost every spare minute, and he no longer worried about what others would think of a relationship between us, openly kissing me with others watching, touching me in intimate ways that I had never experienced before. Not sexual ways, simple gestures, brushing hair from my face, kissing my temple, whispering softly into my ear. And despite his protests, he had continued to call me 'love', and even occasionally 'pet'. Hermione was a bit bewildered by his behavior, but only until I made him leave one evening and discussed it with her. She was not pleased, but remained quiet about the situation, tending to station herself on the other side of Harry's bed when she visited, indignant glances flickering at Draco every so often. I let her keep her distance, hoping that she would warm up to him eventually.

It was Saturday afternoon when Harry finally woke up, and Draco and I sat across from each other on my bed, playing chess. Draco was holding my hand next to the board, absently rubbing his thumb across the surface. I think he did it to distract me so that I wouldn't beat him for the millionth time. My knight had just finished pummeling his bishop when we both looked over at a stirring in Harry's bed. He was rubbing his eyes and sitting up gingerly, "Am I still dreaming? What's going on?"

I grinned and got out of bed to hug him in relief, "No, mate, you're awake. How do you feel?" I pulled away to looked at him and he yawned loudly.

"Disoriented. I think I'm hallucinating. I'm seeing Malfoy in your bed." I laughed and looked over at him. He was quietly watching our exchange.

"You aren't hallucinating, mate. He's playing chess with me, and losing horridly, I might add." I smirked over at him and received a sneer in return.

Harry rubbed his forehead and wrinkled his nose, "How long have I been out?"

"About a week and a half. You drained all your magic in the battle, which you did brilliantly in, by the way. They're awarding you a Marlin First Blass for outstanding aide to the Wizarding World."

"So that wasn't just a dream? He's really gone?" He looked hopefully up at me and I grinned.

"Just a pile of rubbish. You pretty well destroyed him."

He sighed and visibly relaxed, sinking into his pillows again. "Good, very good." He was quiet for a moment and then looked back up at me. "I'm starving. How about some lunch er.. dinner? And then you can explain why exactly Ferret-face is playing chess on your bed when I could have sworn we got rid of the wanker." I laughed and swatted at his arm before calling for Pomfrey, both of us ignoring Draco's death glare.

- April 16 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

Another week in limbo. Another week of Hermione poking and prodding at us like some persistent mother hen. I was nearly ready to tell her to shut her bloody mouth, but then I found myself alone in the dorm with Harry and my opportunity to amend the silent treatment stood shaking me in frustration. "Can we talk?"

He didn't look at me, rather at his old, balled up pairs of dirty socks as he prepared his laundry. "Nothing to talk about. He's practically destroyed you, nearly killed your boyfriend, and yet, you're still running right back to him like some kind of masochist. I don't want to stand by and watch you crumble again."

I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Look, I know you're trying to protect me, but believe me, I can handle myself. You don't understand this, and maybe you never will, but I'm in love with him. No matter how much I fight it and how much I hate it, I can't stop. When he touches me, it's like the entire world falls away. I know everyone says that and it sounds stupid and all, but it's true. I feel needed when I'm with him. I'm not just the throw-away or the forgotten. Sure, he pretends not to care, but when we're together, I'm the only thing he sees. I love that. I need that."

He paused his sorting and met my eye for the first time in a week. "You are not a throw-away. You're needed. You're loved. I need you. Hermione needs you. You're family needs you. None of us would be able to function without you. Don't you know that?"

"I know, Harry. I know you need me. It's just… It's different with Draco. I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be when I'm with him. Like I'm home."

"How? He's an evil git who's horrible to you."

"I can't explain it; it's just the way I feel. Can you accept that? I thought you said you would."

He looked back at his laundry and glared so hard that I was shocked that it hadn't erupted into flames yet. We stood there in that silence that was so thick my chest felt heavy and my eyes watered. And then he looked back up at me with eyes so dull with sadness that it made me ache. "No. I thought I could, but I can't. I love you too much to sit back and let him hurt you. I'm sorry, Ron." And then he abandoned the laundry and left quietly without looking back. My heart clenched and I felt myself break into a thousand pieces like shattered glass. I fell to my knees and began to cry for the first time in almost a year.

- March 7 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

I was sitting in the pane of a high window in the Owlery, stroking Hedwig's feathers while Pig rustled about in my hair and twittered in glee. It was a Hogsmeade day, but I hadn't felt right up for going, with Justin staying backto do catch up work. He had ushered me out of the library an hour before, claiming me to be a distraction to his work, and so I had gone up to visit Pig and sit in peace for a while. It had been steadily drizzling for a while, but an enchantment kept the owl perches dry, and so I could sit mere inches from a waterfall and listen to the symphony of droplets hitting the roof.

I sighed and rested my head against the wall, not listening to the twisters from above as Pig flew down into my lap to avoid being squished. My mind was distracted with ways to deter Malfoy from calling his goons on Justin again. My outburst in the hallway about our past affairs had only fueled his anger, and I had been receiving anonymous threats all week. "Like I give a bloody fuck if he puts the Cruciatus Curse on me. As long as he stays away from Justin…" I muttered to myself, earning a curious upside-down look from Hedwig. I heard footsteps echo off the walls, but didn't glance to see who it was, probably someone using a school owl.

"There are ways to assure his safety." My head shot around to look at him, standing to my right with his hands behind his back. He was dressed in pristine trousers and a black turtleneck, looking as impeccable as always. I glared at him.

"And how is that?"

"All you would have to do is stop ignoring my inquiries and end this bloody relationship. It's beneath you and it's getting tiresome."

I felt my body tense up with anger, "Beneath me? Justin's only beneath me in bed."

He rolled his eyes and snickered in indignation, "Please! He's a fucking Mudblood! And a Hufflepuff! He's so beneath you, you could wipe the floor with him." He settled a bit and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head, "No, this is unacceptable and it ends now. You'll be at the tapestry in half an hour and we'll forget the filthy little git ever happened."

My body was so tense I was shaking and my hand clenched instinctively. Hedwig must have sensed my anger because she flew away quickly, followed by Pig. He was staring at me impatiently, waiting for my agreement, I suppose, and something snapped. I lunged at him, swinging a fist to connect with his face, but he snatched my wrist before I could make contact and twisted it behind my back, shoving me against the wall and pressing his body against my back to keep me in place. I was still shaking and furious and my breath was coming out in frustrated pants. "Let me go, Ferret-face. I don't want you to touch me with your slimy Slytherin hands."

"Now, now, Weasley. Flattery will get you nowhere. Tell me you'll be at the tapestry." He began licking and biting at my neck, teasing my heated skin. It was all I could do not to moan at the contact I had been fantasizing about for months.

"No," I growled, determined not to let him get to me.

He bit down rather hard and then smoothed the pain away with his tongue, "Weasley, that is not an acceptable answer."

"How about I shove my acceptable answer up your ass?"

"Only if you come too," he purred and I could feel his smirk against my neck.

"Fuck you, Malfoy."

"That's the idea, glad you're finally catching on." His free hand began to stroke my hair and I tried not to relax beneath him, but touching my hair was always the gentlest thing he ever did to me and I craved his touch as though I'd been going through withdrawals. "Now, when I go down to see the red horse, am I going to find you there, or do Crabbe and Goyle have to 'accidentally' send Fletchly down another flight of stairs?"

I closed my eyes in indecision, wanting desperately to give in to him and fuck him right there on the Owlery floor, but then that would hurt Justin to know I wasn't faithful. But again, maybe if I agreed, Justin would no longer be under threat. "If I go, will it stop?"

"As long as you stop letting that Mudblood touch you."

"I'm not going to stop seeing Justin." He twisted my arm up painfully, but I resisted to moan of pain. "Malfoy, this isn't just about sex, you know. I like Justin. I like being able to hold his hand in the hallway, kiss him hello, go on dates with him. He treats me like his boyfriend and not some bloody possession, and I like being treated like I matter."

"Who the fuck cares about bloody hand-holding?" he growled, entirely missing the point.

"I do! I like being told that I'm appreciated, I like being acknowledged. I like knowing that I'm the only one he touches. I never had that security with you."

"That's because we aren't a sodding couple, you fuckwit! I can do as I please. I don't need to answer to you." The anger in his voice turned into a hautiness and his fingers loosened a bit against my hand. I took it as my opportunity.

"Then I shouldn't have to answer to you, either. Let me go!" I tugged my arm away and shoved my elbow into his ribs, causing him to back away a bit, gripping his side. I turned to glare at him, "I'm finished with you, Draco. I'm tired of this game. Leave me, my boyfriend, my friends, and my sister alone. If you touch them again, I'm going to inform Dumbledore about your Mark." I didn't wait for his reply before storming out of the Owlery, more furious at him than I had been in a while.

I calmed down a bit as I made my way down to the library to find Justin. He was sitting at the table where I had left him, surrounded by stacks of books and scattered parchments. I smiled when he looked up at me and went to sit next to him. "I thought I told you to go away so I could get some work done." He cocked an eyebrow at me.

I just smiled coyly and leaned into his chair, "I couldn't stay away that long. Besides, I thought you could use a break." I moved my mouth to his and he tasted so sweet that when he pulled away after a minute, I held his lips, unwilling to stop the sensation he gave me.

He pulled away slightly and rubbed noses with me, out foreheads still touching, "Maybe a little break wouldn't hurt." I grinned and kissed him again, all thoughts of Malfoy floating away.

* * *

A/N: and once more with enthusiasm: "THANK YOU CASSIE!" 


	16. Sulking in the Prefects Bathroom

A/N: thank you for your reviews. sorry it took so long, having dating problems, had to fiddle with a few things. also, sorry for forgetting to adjust the chart for chapter 14, if i have time, i'll fix that now. 

chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 14.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chaper 13.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 14.2 - chapter 15.3 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 15.2 - chapter 16 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 15.1 - chapter 13.3 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 13.1 - chapter 8.3 - 

April 20 - 1998 - Seventh Year - 

"Ronald Weasley, if you don't tell me what's wrong, I am going to hex you and Harry so badly they'll be working on transfiguring you back to your original state a week later!" Hermione yelled as I sat down for lunch the Saturday after our fight. We were late so hardly anyone was still eating and only a few second-years sat at the opposite end of our table. Harry was 'in a meeting with Dumbledore', which actually meant he was sulking in the pool of the prefect's bathroom. I would have to remember to ask Dumbledore to change the password so the bastard was denied access. Hermione pulled my plate away from me with a look of determined anger. 

I sighed and rubbed my temples, "'Mione, you don't want to know, trust me. It's private." 

"Private! From me! I'm your best friend right now, Ron! Harry won't even look at you! What did you do!" She was yelling so loudly that the first-years at the Ravenclaw table were staring at us, let alone our own second-years. I glared at them and threatened house points if they didn't mind their own bloody business, and then turned back to Hermione. 

"I didn't do anything, at least not to Harry. If you'll give me my food back, I'll tell you what's wrong." It was time she knew, no matter how badly I wanted to keep her from it. I'd rather have her hear it from me than an infuriated Harry. She relaxed a bit and put the plate back in front of me. We began to eat again. "Promise no matter what I say, you won't yell? You can hate me all you want, but you can't yell. I don't want this getting around school." 

"I won't yell, Ronald. Now tell me." 

I hesitated for a second, sighed, and went on with it, making sure my voice was low enough to not be overheard, "I've been sleeping with Draco Malfoy for over a year." 

She just stared at me for the longest time, but then her eyes narrowed. "What you do mean you've been sleeping with Draco Malfoy for a year? He's a fowl, disgusting, little ferret. How could you even let him touch you?" 

I looked away from her and shoved a sandwich in my mouth. "I can't really explain it. I just… Look, I know he's a horrible person and he's treated us terribly our whole school lives, and I usually want to kill him myself, but… I don't know. When I'm with him and we're alone, it's like I'm home. I feel safe and needed and wanted and it's like nothing I've ever felt before." 

"But it's Malfoy! And you could you not have told me?" 

"I didn't want you to hate me or stop talking to me." 

"But you told Harry!" 

"No! Harry found out all by himself. He walked down the wrong hallway and caught us." 

She didn't say anything for a long while, chewing her food thoughtfully. "Well, at least you told me of your own free will. Too bad I already knew." She fixed a glare at me and I dropped my fork in shock. 

"What? How could you possibly have known?" 

She rolled her eyes at me. "Honestly, Ron. You, Harry, and Malfoy all missing from class? I watched you go behind Hagrid's. Like I was going to let you two get hexed to death without trying to stop it. I waited to see what you were talking about and when I heard, I stayed hidden to find out what was going on." 

"Oh… So you er… You heard the whole thing, then?" I bit my lip and didn't look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me. 

"He put you under the Imperius Curse, Ron. How could you be okay with that?" Her voice was soft and almost pitying. 

"I know he shouldn't have done it. I yelled at him as soon as it was off, believe me. But I don't now, 'Mione. I have a hard time getting angry with him for those things. He's from a different world than we are. He used to talk sometimes after we were… together. He'd tell me things about his family and the Deatheaters." 

"Like what?" 

"After he got the Dark Mark, when he'd go to meetings, he'd tell me sometimes about his father or Snape or even him getting the Cruciatus Curse for doing something wrong. He talked about it like it was nothing, like everyone does the same thing when they're angry. It kind of made me feel bad for him almost. I don't know…" 

"But how does that make what he did alright?" 

"I can't explain it. It's not right, necessarily, but it's something that's ingrained in him. I can't exactly tell him to stop, especially since he's still under the influence of Lucius and Vold-Vol-You-Know- Who. And it's not like I've ever had any control over his actions whatsoever. Besides, it isn't as though he used it to force himself on me. It was the only way he knew how to get me to our room. He took it off as soon as we were both there. And even more, it's kind of a good thing that he did it because I wasn't about to go with him, and quite frankly, he gave me the most mind-shatteringly amazing orgasm of my life. And he cuddled afterwards. We slept on the couch together until… what? Midnight? Is that when I came back to the Common Room?" 

"Good sex justifies total loss of bodily control to someone who would sooner kill you than look at you?" 

"No, he would never kill me." 

"How do you know?" 

"I just do, okay? Look, are you going to be like Harry and end our friendship because I made a choice you don't like or can we drop this?" 

"What are you talking about? Harry didn't end your friendship, he's just upset." 

"No, it's over. I tried to talk to him about it, but he told me he couldn't accept it and walked off. I don't know what to do now." I felt tears sting my eyes for the second time in three days and looked down at my plate only to discover that I had lost my appetite and shoved it away. "Please don't be like him. I couldn't handle it if I lost the both of you." 

I heard her sigh and then she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into hug. I buried my nose in her neck and fought my tears. "You aren't going to lose me, I'm just upset. I don't understand what would possess you to want to be with someone that hurts you." 

"People do a lot of stupid things for love." She remained quiet as she rubbed my back. "I'm sorry I never told you. I was afraid I might hurt you, especially with the whole thing with the entire student body and half the teachers thinking I was in love with you. I should have told you when I told Harry." 

"I thought he just found out?" 

"About Draco, yeah, but I told him I was gay after Christmas holidays last year. I should have told you, too. It wasn't fair to leave you in the dark like that." I straightened so that I could look her in the eye and she gave me a pensive look. 

"It's alright. You were trying to protect me. I can't hate you for that." 

"So you aren't mad?" 

"Oh, I'm plenty mad, but mostly at Malfoy." I nodded. I couldn't really stop her from hating him, and she had many reasons beyond me. I was just happy to know that I wasn't losing both my best friends. "Do you want to go to the library to study for a while with me? I think Professor Flitwick is going to give us another quiz on Monday." Not having anything else to do, I agreed and we went to get our bags from the dorms before heading down to the library. If anything else, I could just read about Quidditch. 

The library was almost empty when we arrived, only a few Hufflepuff fourth-years huddled at a table in the back, giggling about something. We chose a table at the other side of the library and Hermione went to find a few books. I was fiddling with a quill and thinking about Harry when the doors opened and in walked Draco with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise Zabini. Our eyes met for a second before he sat with his group a few tables away. Hermione came back with a stack of books, looking apprehensively over at their table. "No Parkinson? I'm surprised. She usually follows him around like a lost puppy." 

I smirked and took one of the books from her stack. "He's been avoiding her since we got back together. I think he's worried I'll cut him off again." 

"Cut him off?" 

"We weren't together after he started all that public stuff with her. I told him he couldn't touch me if he was with anyone else. It took him a while, but I think he's finally realized that I wasn't bluffing." 

"How do you know he's not sleeping around secretly?" 

"He doesn't have time. He's been with me every night this week." Her eyes turned to saucers and she grabbed a book. 

"More than I really ever needed to know, Ron." 

"Sorry." We settled into a silent reading for a while. I was reading about the benefits of a certain wand movement, but quickly got bored. My eyes wandered over to Draco and I was surprised to see him looking back at me. He glanced to a back alcove and back to me before saying something to his group and heading in the direction he'd indicated. I waited about a minute, told Hermione I'd be back, and followed him. He was absently thumbing through an old tome, but put it back as his eyes flicked to me. 

"Out with Granger? Study date?" 

I rolled my eyes and walked up to him, "Damage control. She insisted I tell her why Harry and I aren't speaking." 

"You told her?" His eyes narrowed and his voice was dangerously low. 

"I had no choice. She knew anyway. She overheard the other day during class. She isn't happy with you." 

"Am I supposed to give a fuck? They're your friends, not mine. As long as she doesn't tell anyone…" His hand reached up to twist around my tie. 

"She won't." 

A slow smirk emerged on his lips and he pulled my tie (and subsequently me) to him. "Good." And then our lips met and I forgot about everything but him for the time being. I came back to the table ten minutes later looking thoroughly snogged, I'm sure, but Hermione only raised an eyebrow at me before turning back to her book. 


	17. Liasons with Narcissa

A/N: thank you for your reviews. sorry it took so long, midterms are a bitch. also, sorry for forgetting to adjust the chart for the last chapter, i've been a wee-bit absent-minded lately. couldn't tell you where my mind's gotten off to, though. 

Notice: the next chapter will be the LAST. Anything ya'll have questions on, put them in reviews and i might seperately post some random scenes as one-shots that explain any confusion. 

chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 14.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chaper 13.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 14.2 - chapter 15.3 - chapter 17.3 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 15.2 - chapter 16 - chapter 17.2 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 15.1 - chapter 13.3 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 13.1 - chapter 17.1 - chapter 17.4 - chapter 8.3 - 

March - 2001 - 

These encounters began to steadily increase as the months went by. I wasn't pleased with myself, but I found lips pressed hard against mine more often than I could push away from, and I eventually began to make excuses to myself about the encounters. They were feeble, but they allowed me an escape from the guilt my participation afforded me. I never mentioned the situation to Hermione or Harry, but I could tell that Harry suspected something when I conveniently dropped my case against Malfoy in favor of 'more pressing matters'. He gave me a reproachful look every time Raleigh mentioned Draco's name. Our run-ins went on for seven months before they stopped abruptly. He disappeared from radar for a long time, but I refused to allow myself to look for him. He was probably in Italy with the evil little bint he'd married. 

I was spending the afternoon in Diagon Alley two months after my last encounter with Draco when I saw familiar blonde hair moving through the crowd. My heart began to speed up again and I slid into an alcove to keep from detection, curious to see what he was doing. I was surprised when the blonde finally reached my full view and I discovered it to be not Draco, but his mother, looking regal as ever in filmy pale blue robes, a stroller gliding on its own in front of her. In the stroller was perched a little girl of about two with lengthy, black hair and large blue eyes. Amelia, Draco's little girl. Interested, I slipped out of my alcove and followed a bit behind them. They headed for Flourish and Blotts and I followed them in. Narcissa was talking to the little girl, asking her what kind of books she'd like for her birthday. I didn't catch her response, but they made their way to the children's isle at the back of the store and I slipped into the next row, grabbing a book and pretending to be interested in it as I listened. Narcissa handed the little girl several books for her perusal, and read the titles out loud. There was a long bit of silence in which time I decided shadowing Draco's mother and daughter was a bit nonsensical and turned to leave only to find Mrs. Malfoy standing in front of me, giving me an appraising look. I could see Amelia through a gap in the shelves, kicking her feet in her stroller and giggling at pictures in one of the books. 

"You're Ronald Weasley." 

I would have been surprised to find out that she knew my name if it weren't for the fact that Harry and I had been the two key players in the execution of her husband. "Yes, ma'am." I was suddenly very nervous and a little shaky. Her eyes never left mine and she had a piercing glare that reminded me very much of Draco. 

"You had liaisons with my son during school, didn't you?" I froze, unable to answer. Was I supposed to confirm or deny this? "Your relationship with Draco made Lucius incredibly angry. Angrier than he had been when the Dark Lord died. He and Draco fought for weeks over you. Right up until the wedding." Her eyes flicked to Amelia and the silver turned to a stormy gray. "Draco is not happy with this marriage, it isn't right for him, but he refuses to leave without an heir. He's in Italy right now trying." My heart dropped to my stomach at the thought that he was with his wife, allowing her to touch him, be with him, surround him, when it should have been me. But then I scolded myself for that thought. Her eyes returned to mine and a little of the storm subsided. "You were wondering; that's why you followed us. You love him, don't you?" 

I swallowed and turned away, but she moved closer so that I had no choice but to look at her and I nodded, "More than I'll ever admit to." 

A small smile graced her lips and she reached up a hand to touch my cheek, "I know it may not seem like it, but what he is doing is something that needs to be done. He will never be content if this is not done, it has been ingrained into him for far too long. Be patient." 

I was unclear as to what she meant. Was I supposed to wait for him to return so that we could continue to grope at each other in the back isles of shops? Did she know about these encounters? She obviously knew something about our interaction if she knew about me outside the circle of her husband's death. My eyebrows knitted together to show my confusion, "Ma'am?" 

Her smile grew and warmed with the uncertainty of my voice and she brushed a bit of fringe from my eyes, "My son does not talk of much to me, but I know him far better than he thinks and far better than he knows himself. He is stubborn and very much set in the tradition that he was taught, but he knows what is in his heart. He will come back to you. Don't worry." I could feel my hands quaking in confusion and nervousness, but she seemed completely at ease. Her hand wrapped around my wrist, tugging me down slightly to reach her, and she kissed my cheek in a way that could only be described as reassuring. Stunned, I watched as she turned down the isle and returned to her granddaughter, whispering something to her and taking the books the little girl had chosen. With a final glance back at me, she and Amelia made their way up to the front to pay and then disappeared from the store. I stood, frozen for much longer, and only came out of my thoughts when my wand started vibrating, indicating that Harry needed me. 

May 3 - 1998 - Seventh Year - 

It was a Hogsmeade weekend, unknowingly our last. I spent the day with Hermione, doing our usual shopping and then grabbing a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with a few members of the DA. Harry hadn't been allowed to come because of tighter security around him. You-Know-Who was planning some form of an attack on the school and no risks were being taken with the Savior. He hadn't been allowed to even leave the castle for a month. I had no idea what Hermione would have done if he had been allowed to come, though, so his restriction could be seen as a blessing. Harry still refused to be within vocal distance of me except when unavoidably in the dorms, and even then I think he'd started rising early to avoid me. I was hurt by the treatment, but not enough to let my relationship die. Draco was finally consistent and faithful, if a bloody git, still. We passed him a few times and passed glares, Hermione tightening her grip on my arm, and the last time a note sending me to the Hogs Head in half an hour. I made sure that Hermione was safely installed on the arm of Dean Thomas with Ginny on his other arm and hurried to my meeting. 

"So what is it? I don't like this place." I asked as I sat down across from him at a small table hidden in a dark corner of the grungy bar. 

"Nothing, I just needed an excuse to get away from Pansy." He took a sip of his butterbeer and looked away from me. I studied him a few moments; something was off. He reclined in his sit with one arm bent over the chair back, and to an untrained eye appeared to be as relaxed and pompous as usual, but there was something in his eyes and the way his other hand fiddled with the bottle. He almost seemed… twitchy. 

"So I'm a distraction?" 

His lips curled into a smirk, "You're always a distraction." My ears turned red and I looked down to draw circles on the table. "Even so, you aren't doing the distracting today, I am." My eyes turned to his just as I heard a loud scream from outside. The Attack. His eyes looked up at the door then back to his bottle. "They should have her now. You can go if you want." He took another sip and there was something about his mannerism… I didn't stay to find out. I ran from the place, down the street, passed screaming, flailing groups of students. On the main street I could see Harry running from hop to shop, looking in for something. The Death Eaters were nowhere to be found. 

"Harry! What are you doing? Get back to the castle, you git!" 

He stopped and glared at me, "They took her! Where were you! You were supposed to be with her!" 

All the blood drained from my body and my eyes went wide, understanding what Malfoy had meant in the bar and what Harry was rushing, looking for now. "I left her with my sister and Dean. Where did they take her?" 

"Headquarters, Riddle House. I can take you," spoke a drawling voice behind us. Harry's eyes narrowed and I turned to see Draco standing in the littered streets, looking almost guilty. I opened my mouth to yell at him, but Harry beat me to him, shoving passed me. 

"Take me." Harry's voice was determined as he tried to reach Draco, but I dodged between them before he could take the last step. 

"No! Wait for Dumbledore. He'll kill you and probably Hermione, too, if he hasn't already. I'm not letting you go." 

"Fuck you, Ron! I'm going! I'm the only thing standing between Voldemort and death and I'm going to end it, whether you want me to or not. Don't make me hex you." He was shoving at me, but I wouldn't let him pass. I could feel him shaking and was resolute. 

"Fine, then I'm going, too. You aren't going to fight him alone again." He searched my eyes for a second before nodding. We turned to Draco, who was glaring at me. 

"You are not going, Weasley. I am not bringing you to your death." 

"Shut up and fucking take us, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, eyes flaring and chest heaving with anger. 

Draco remained calmly glaring, but his eyes turned to Harry. "I will not allow him to die." 

"Well, Harry's not going without me. And what do you care, anyway! Just fucking apparate us!" 

He looked slightly startled, but calmly reached into his robes and held out a deflated, chewed toy. "It's a portkey actually, and I don't care. I'd just rather keep my steady fuck, but if this is what you want…" Harry and I both reached for it without hesitation, my glaring at him, and a few seconds later, I felt the tug at my navel and we were gone. 

March 22 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

Crabbe and Goyle had gotten to Justin again and I was panicking as I watched him from across the chessboard. His lip was cut in several places and his left eye was a dark indigo. He had been grumbling about why they'd suddenly decided to torture him and my mind was racing a marathon. I hated keeping things from him, especially things that so obviously hurt him, but how was I supposed to tell him that Draco had a vendetta against him that would only stop when I stopped seeing him and started letting Draco have his way with me again? I don't think even a Hufflepuff could forgive my affair. My only feasible option was to leave Justin, not because I wanted to, but because I wanted to keep him safe. I would not give in to Draco, but at least if I let Justin go, Draco would have no more reason to harm him. 

"Justin, can we talk?" 

I bit my lip nervously as he looked back at me and reached across the table to take my hand. "Of course, love, what is it?" 

I avoided his eyes and looked down at the hand still in my lap, "I um… I've been thinking and… er, well… I don't know if it's exactly safe for us to be seeing each other." 

"What? What do you mean it isn't safe? Is this about the Slytherins? They aren't doing this because of our relationship. I'm just their muggle-born victim of the week." He squeezed my hand for reassurance, but I just shook my head at him. If I was going to break things off, he at least deserved to know the truth. 

"No, you're not. Their attacks have everything to do with our relationship. I was afraid to tell you before, only Harry knows about this, but you deserve to hear it and judge it for what you may." He was looking at me quizzically and the guilt was making my stomach swirl in an uncomfortable manner than made me want to search out a loo. "Before we started dating, I was in another relationship… well, a relationship of sorts anyway… We had a row and I left him and now he's angry and he's been doing everything he can to get me to go back to him. For a while he only worked with presents and jealousy, but when I started dating you… He started threatening. When I kept refusing him, he sent his henchmen to hurt the one thing he knew would hurt me the most… you." 

I ventured a look at his reaction and he was staring at me in stunned silence. He slowly withdrew his hand from mine, "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" 

"I've been sleeping with Malfoy, yes, for a long while. It was a bit after a year when I ended it." 

"But… you hate him and he hates you…" 

"Yeah, I know. I was repulsed the first time he kissed me. It was such a shock. I got so mad I punched him a couple times and kneed his bits. And we had the huge row about it with screaming and punching, slamming against walls, a few hexes… And right in the middle of it we started snogging and it just kind of felt natural, like it was another way to get out our aggression towards each other. After that we started meeting in secret and it just kind of escalated…" 

He was glaring at me now, "Are you going to go back to him, then? Is that why this is ending?" 

I shook my head adamantly. "No, I broke up with him because he was with someone else and I don't want to be with him anymore. I'm doing this because I care about you and I want you safe. The only way he'll stop is if you aren't with me anymore. He'll have no reason to hurt you anymore." 

"Right." He looked down at the table with this forlorn disappointment in his eyes. I looked down as well and began to fiddle with a fray in my robes. Time passed in silence. I didn't hear him get up, but when I looked back up his chair was empty and my heart sank into my stomach as I melted into my chair. It hurt worse than I thought it would, but there was nothing I could do to change the situation. He was safe now and that was all that mattered. 

August - 2000 -

Days were beginning to blend into each other as I worked with Harry to hunt down the remaining death eaters. The execution Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy had been my only day off in six months. Harry and I had had front row seats, Harry twitching next to me as he and Lucius shared a visual duel, and he didn't look away until both bodies were being pulled from the platform. We passed Narcissa Malfoy on our way out and I was surprised that, though tear tracks traced her cheeks, she still looked as relieved as Harry. She caught sight of my glance and followed me out the door with her eyes. 

Draco conveniently ran into me three weeks later in a tiny bookshop in Knockturn Alley while I was looking for a Dark Arts book to study up on the latest curses. He shoved me against a row of shelves with this malicious little glint in his eye and began to kiss my neck while his hands wandered into my robes. I tried to shove him off, but he wasn't having any of it. "You're coming back to my flat with me tonight," he whispered hoarsely in my ear. 

I close my eyes and fought my body's reaction to him. "You know the rules." 

"Yeah, no wife, no one else, I promise. She's in Italy, remember?" 

"Never letting you touch me again sound like it might be familiar?" 

He sighed impatiently and clamped onto my chin, turning my face to meet his. "Weasley, it's been over two years. Can you honestly tell me you aren't dying to fuck me? Even if you were sleeping with someone else, which I know you're not, I am the best fuck you've ever had and we both know it." 

"Either way, I'm fairly certain the definition of 'never' hasn't changed. Now step off before I curse you." He let out a puff of indignant air, but did not remove himself. He pressed further in. 

"Curse me. Please." His hand slipped into my trousers and wrapped around my length, tugging roughly. I bit back a groan and shut my eyes to avoid his insistent stare. His lips found my neck again, teeth nipping at my pulse point as he stroked me. "You want this. You want me. Stop denying yourself what is right in front of you." His voice was raspy and harsh in my ear and he nibbled on my lobe as if to emphasize the statement. I was nearly butter melting under his hands. It took all of my inner strength to tear his hand away from my pants. 

"No." I opened my eyes and met his lust-filled gaze, determined not to wield. "You made your decision two years ago, you need to deal with it." I pushed him away and hurried out of the building, hoping to lose myself in the darkened shadows of the Alley and the crowds of darks wizards mulling about. Draco never followed. 

a few people have asked about my possibly shuffling things around to put the story in chronological order, like i said i was thinking about in the beginning of writing this. quite frankly, as confusing as this story can be, i love that nothing is in order. the confusion makes things more interesting, i think. so i'm going to keep it the way it is on here. however, if anyone knows of a website that i could perhaps archive this story, i would be perfectly willing to chronolize (i think i just invented a word :) the chapters on another site. thanks :) 


	18. The Chessboard

A/N: thank you, everyone that has been so kind as to acknowledge this story and encourage me in writing it. i hope the ending has lived up to your expectations. A/N 2: i have created a lj specifically for archiving this story in chronological order. you can find it on my bio if you're intersted. 

Notice: Any confusion left, ask in the comments and I'll do my best to provide suplimentary material to explain. 

chapter 18.2 - chapter 1 - chapter 5.2 - chapter 4.1 - chapter 3.1 - chapter 6.1 - chapter 14.1 - chapter 5.1 - chapter 10 - chapter 11.2 - chaper 13.2 - chapter 2 - chapter 4.2 - chapter 3.2 - chapter 4.3 - chapter 7 - chapter 9.1 - chapter 6.2 - chapter 9.3 - chapter 11.1 - chapter 8.2 - chapter 14.2 - chapter 15.3 - chapter 17.3 - chapter 12.2 - chapter 15.2 - chapter 16 - chapter 17.2 - chapter 9.2 - chapter 12.1 - chapter 15.1 - chapter 13.3 - chapter 8.1 - chapter 13.1 - chapter 17.1 - chapter 17.4 - chapter 18.1 - chapter 8.3 - 

September 1 - 2002 - 

The tea was just beginning to scream and steam over as I sat down with a pile of notes to get some work done. The tea pot floated to the table and sat down on a tea cozy to await pour, which I did without looking up from the interview with some Muggle that had witnessed a Deatheater attack on a muggle hospital in Belgium. I jotted a note down while take a sip, but then spilled a bit onto the parchment when a knock at the door shattered the evening quiet. I set the tea down and dabbed at the parchment with a napkin as the knock came again. Not knowing who would show up at this house, I stood and went to the door, peering out the peep hole to find a bit of shock. 

He was standing rigid on the doorstep, looking around with an arrogant sneer of impatience. Curiosity got the best of me and I opened the door just as he was about to knock for a fourth time. "Finally, what took so long? You can't be living in more than a box." 

I leaned against the doorframe and rolled my eyes, "Is there a reason for this visit or did you just come to insult me?" 

"I have something I need to give you. Are you going to show some manners and ask me in or are you going to leave me on the doorstep?" 

"I'm tempted to leave you." I moved to close the door in his face, but he stepped forward to hold the door open, stepping rather close to me in the process. He smelled of his expensive cologne with a faint hint of coffee. 

"I don't think so. Let me in." 

"What if I don't want to?" 

"You do." I was about to retort with something biting, but the words were lost on the way to my mouth. His hand had gone to my face, his thumb stroking my cheek, and his eyes were a bit glazed and searching. "When did you become the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on? How could I have missed that?" His voice held a sort of reverent awe I didn't think him capable of, but I no more trusted it than anything he had ever said to me. He noticed my skepticism and closed his eyes with a sigh, his hand sliding down my neck to my chest to rest over my heart. "Please, just let me give this to you. I've been struggling with it for a long while now and it's time you had it." 

I eyed him for a moment longer; then stepped aside. He walked in and looked around at the small living room Harry and I shared, but gave no comment before turning to me. "Would you like some tea? I just made some." 

"Tea would be lovely." I nodded and went to get him some. When I came back, he was perched on the edge of the couch, fussing over a square box wrapped in silver that was almost the size of the coffee table, and he looked very much like an anxious bird. He smiled up at me and took the cup when I offered it to him. "Thank you." 

I nodded and sat beside him, "So what is this?" 

"Do you still have the chess pieces I gave you?" 

"Yes, they're in the hall closet, why?" He didn't say anything, but handed me the present instead. I hesitated for a second, but the nervous look he was giving it convinced me that it wasn't hexed. I pulled the paper off to reveal a lidded box. Lifting the lip up, I was surprised to find a beautiful, ornately carved chess board sitting amongst the green velvet lining. I lifted it out of the box to take a closer look while he cleared the box and the paper away and watched me, still with that anxious look. It was made of the same materials as the pieces had been and looked more expensive than six months rent of the flat. "Malfoy…" 

"Before you say anything, there's a reason I'm giving this to you and I want you to hear this before you respond." I looked up at him and he took a deep breath, looking more nervous than before. This was very unlike him. "I've been fighting myself with this for a long time, but I'm ready finally. I love you. I'm sick, and twisted, and I've done so many horrible things to you, and I know that I have no right to, but I love you. I can't… I don't want to spend any more time fighting with you or avoiding you. I just want to be with you. Just you. I've left my wife. She's given me a son and a proper heir and now she will live at the villa with the children and do whatever she wants to and I'm free of all obligations to my family. The proper family, proper reputation, proper partner, all of that is gone, doesn't matter. I want you and I want only you. 

"Everything I've ever done to you, every horrible thing I've done, was done because I had no other choice. You were not allowed to mean anything to me and, no matter how much I hated it, I had to get rid of you, for both our sakes. So I stood you up, hurt you, cheated on you, flirted right in front of you, made you do things I had no right to. I tried so hard to get you out of my head, but none of it did any good. Every time I did some horrible thing to you, you ended up with a little bit more of me until you had all but the shell. And now that I don't have father or Voldemort telling me they'll kill us both if I even think of you, I'm here to give you the rest, that last bit you don't have. The chess board to play the pieces you've had all along on." In my shock, I had set the board in my lap, and he took my hands and lifted them to his mouth, kissing each knuckle as he said the last sentence. 

I stared at him, frozen to the spot. How was I supposed to respond? He'd hurt me irrevocably on more occasions than I could count and I had sworn to never touch him again, but I knew by the rapid beat of my heart that I still loved him, still wanted him above all others. But could I risk my heart again for such an unsure love? Could I rise above if he hurt me again? Could I live with myself if I denied him? 

My silence made him even more nervous and I watched the frantic search of my face his eyes made. I was struck again at how un-Malfoy he was acting and wondered if it really was just an act. But that frantic panic doesn't come with acting, not in the eyes, and certainly not with someone that has never known an emotion like frantic before in his life. I found words once more, "What is your son's name?" 

He studied me for a moment, his thumb absently rubbing the top of my hand. "Libertas." 

"Does he look like you?" 

"Yes, for the most part. For the parts that count." 

"Blonde hair and gray eyes. You're little girl has dark hair, like Pansy." 

"She has her father's features though, and my mannerisms." 

I nodded and looked down at my hands ensconced in his hold. "Harry won't like you here." 

"Potter? What does Potter have to do with anything?" 

"He lives here with me. He's in Belgium right now, but he's due back later tonight and he won't like you here." 

"Do you want me to leave, then?" Disappointment seeped into his stature like water to a sponge. 

"No, just thought I would tell you." We sat in silence for a long moment and I watched the circles of his thumb, and decided that maybe it was worth the risk, maybe the possibility of a living, breathing 'us' was worth it. I tentatively leaned in to set my lips against his. I felt him relax into me, a hand sliding into my hair to keep me where I was. The familiar need fell over me like a warm blanket and I suddenly realized I'd been freezing all this time. Afterward, I lay curled into his side. He had been warm and gentle and needy and I had fallen in love with him all over again. His fingers were entangled in my hair and he kissed my forehead, and I waited for him to tell me that it was late and that he needed to go, but he only continued to stroke circles along my spine. The silence was soothing and comfortable, like a moist summer night, and I settled further into him as I closed my eyes. 

There was a CRACK and I suddenly remembered that we were on the couch under a flimsy throw blanket and not in bed, tucked away from a work and travel-weary Harry. Draco's head shifted from its resting place on top of mine and I looked up to see him quietly watching Harry, his fingers still scattering circles against my skin. 

"What the fuck?" came Harry's mottled voice, half-way between exhaustion and confusion. I steeled myself for the confrontation and turned my back to Draco so I could look at Harry. Draco's arms pulled me into the crook of his hips and he watched from over my head. 

"Hi, Harry." 

"What's going on?" He looked confused, a little hurt, and on the brink of extreme anger. He set his bag down next to his reading chair and sat in it, looking at us. 

"Do you mind if Draco stays for a little while?" 

"Yes, I do. I mind a great deal. He hurt you, what's the bastard doing here?" 

I felt Draco tense but placed a hand over his to calm him down. "We've worked it out." 

"You've worked it out? You've worked it out! Do you remember the last time you 'worked it out'? Because I remember a fight and then him leaving you on the ground all but in tears while he went off and married some slimy, disgusting cow and you didn't speak for a month." He'd stood in his frustration and was gesticulating wildly, his cheeks flushed with anger. 

"It's not really any of your business, Potter. Ron's an adult and he can do what he pleases, and already has, and there's no way you can stop it." 

Harry turned from angry to seething and I knew it would only be a moment before his wand was out. "Not any of my business! I'm the one that picks up the pieces every time you break his heart! I'm the one that has to watch him whither into nothing because he can't eat. I'm the one that has to hold him while he cries until he can't breathe because you've left him. I have to watch him fall apart when he's my best friend and I can't do anything about it. Don't tell me it's none of my business because it's every bit my business. I won't let you break him again." I burrowed further into the curve of Draco's body and let them talk above my head, watching Harry's hand cautiously. These things needed to be said if either of them was ever to be in the same room with the other for more than a minute without some sort of violence. 

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was trying to protect him by leaving? Did you ever think about my father? My place under the Dark Lord? Did you know what he did when he found out Zabini was gay? Did you hear about how he forced him to fuck his partner with a hunting blade and eat the entrails when he was done? Do you think I wanted that for Ron? Did you think about any of that? No, I don't think you did. I think you saw me as your arch nemesis, the selfish, cruel boy that never gave a damn about him at all. Never thought that maybe I loved him, but couldn't express it. That I'd give my life to make sure he was safe. Never thought of the possibility that I almost had to when I left." His last statement hung in the air like a droplet frozen to the tip of an icicle, always anticipating the fall, but never quite getting there. 

Something changed in the way Harry's eyes shimmered, turning perhaps to weariness or guilt. But there was still anger and before I could stop it, his wand was at Draco's throat. "If you hurt him again, I will take it as a personal vendetta to hunt you down and have you drawn, quartered, and castrated." They proceeded to stare each other down. Not anticipating either of them backing down, I cautiously reached up and moved his wand to point at me. He looked down at me in confusion. 

"This is the way I want things to be, Harry. If he hurts me, then that's my mistake, but please don't stop me from making it." 

He searched my face for a minute before pulling his wand away and turning towards the hall. "It's late, I'm going to bed." 

I watched his back disappear down the hall before turning back to Draco. "Are you going to stay tonight?" 

He smiled and brushed fingers through my hair, "If you want me to." 

I smiled and kissed him quickly before sitting up and pulling on a pair of boxers that had been lying near me. I'm fairly certain they were not mine. "Come on, then. I'm sick of sleeping on couches with you." I stood and waited for him to wrap the blanket around his waist before heading down the hall to go into my room, the sounds of Harry violently getting ready for bed coming from the door across the hall. 

October 10 - 1996 - Sixth Year - 

It was after Quidditch. Thanks to Voldemort's latest attempt at assassination, Harry was still under house arrest and banned from even watching the game, let alone playing in it. Ginny was a good seeker, but not as good as Malfoy, who, much to my and Harry's chagrin, was only second in the school to Harry. I had stayed back in the locker rooms, too depressed to speak to anyone, let alone the whole house. It wasn't my fault, really. Slytherin had only gotten one goal in, but we had only gotten three and that isn't nearly enough to win if you don't get the snitch. But still, Slytherin had won. Malfoy, bloody fucking ferret Draco Malfoy, had beaten us. I suddenly realized what Wood must have gone through after the Dementor's stormed the field third year. 

And so I sat on a bench in the locker rooms alone, and wallowed in my own pity. Except that I wasn't alone. Malfoy was there, had stayed behind; I can only assume his reason was torture and humiliation. He did not operate on any other level that I knew of. 

"Well, well, well, look what we have here. A sad, pathetic, little Weasel. Going to cry, then? Can't stand to lose to Slytherin like you were born to? Is that why you stay behind?" 

I sighed and rubbed at my temples, not looking at him, "Why are you here, Malfoy? Shouldn't you be with your house? Celebrating? Sacrificing Muggle children or whatever the bloody fuck you do?" 

He smirked, and then pretended to pout, "I would be, but sadly there were no Muggles around." His pout turned into an evil grin. "Besides, what do you think I'm doing? Watching you look like they've just killed your fat cow of a mother is like my own, personal party." 

I'd risen when he insulted Mum and I began to gain on him. "You watch what you say about my mum. Your goons aren't here and I would have no problem rearranging that pointy little face of yours." 

"Tsk, tsk, Weasley, resorting to violence over a simple truth? What would your mother say? Oh wait, that's right, she only moos, doesn't she? Terribly-Bloody Hell!" As soon as it had come out of his mouth, my fist landed on his nose. He glared at me, clutching the obviously broken cartilage as blood oozed down his hands and chin. 

I smirked at him, "What was that about my mum?" 

He let go of his nose, which was still dripping blood down his chin, making him look as though he'd just eaten raw flesh right off the bone, and wiped his hands on his robes. "I said that your fat cow of a mother can only moo." As if to punctuate the statement, he returned my punch with one of his own. 

Pain seared through my face and I clamped one hand over my wounded eye. Before I'd even put any thought into it, I punched him again, in the cheek. He staggered back a bit before growling and lunging at me, shoving me against a set of lockers. I prepared myself for another punch, but it never came. There was a pause in which we glared death threats at one another, but then one moment, a glint of something in the grey, and his lips were smashed against mine. I tasted his blood on my lips, salty and almost addictive. I found myself licking at it to taste more, but no, this was wrong, perverse, unbalanced. Bloody Fuck, this was _Malfoy_! 

I shoved him off, or tried to, but he had me firmly pinned to the wall, so I kneed his bits to get him off. He groaned and cowered away from me, doubled over in pain. "What the fuck was that, Malfoy! You fucking pervert!" 

I heard him inhale a breath before he stood straight, dabbing daintily at his nose with his sleeve. "Nothing, Weasel. It was nothing. Now if you'll excuse me," He tried to push passed me, but I would not let him leave. 

"No, you don't get off that easy. You just _kissed me_, you sick fuck! You need to explain yourself before I kick the living shit out of you." 

He growled and pushed at me chest, but I didn't move, "Get out of my way, fucking Weasley." 

"Not until you explain yourself." 

He sighed and ran a hand impatiently through his hair, "I was testing out an hypothesis. Simple as that." 

"What hypothesis was that? How far you have to go before you make me puke in disgust?" 

"None of your concern, actually. Now move before I lose all patience and really hurt you." I didn't move. He growled and shoved me again. "Unless you want me to do it again, move!" 

Rage had slowly been building in me during our exchange and once those words left his lips, it bubbled over. I had knocked him over and was pummeling ever square inch of his face before I even realized what I was doing. He fought back, punching me in the stomach and chest, but I didn't stop. He finally made contact with my groin, causing me to keel over, covering it protectively. He sneered and slammed me onto my back, straddling me, grabbing my hands and holding them above my head to keep me from accosting him again. His eyes looked badly bruised, his lip sliced a few times and starting to swell and his nose was bleeding even more. I glared up at him, panting from exertion. 

"That was severely unnecessary." 

"You're severely unnecessary." 

"Brilliant, Weasley, bloody brilliant. It's a wonder you don't get higher marks." 

"Let me go, Malfoy." I struggled against him, but he only leaned more weight on me. 

"So you can destroy my face further? I think not, Weasel." 

"You deserved it, you fucking pervert." 

He smirked maliciously, "Pervert? That's the funny thing, I'm fairly certain I felt your tongue licking my blood off. Bit passed perverted and into the cannibalistic, don't you think?" 

I snarled and arched up to try to squirm away from him, but apparently that was a bad idea because before I knew what was happening, his mouth was attached to mine again. Disgusted, I struggled further, but that only fueled him further, fighting to gain entrance with his tongue. I bit down on his already bleeding lip hard, trying to hurt him into releasing me, but he only groaned and rolled his hips into mine. I gasped at the unwanted pleasure his hips moving against mine sent up my spine and then directly back down to my groin. His tongue was violently plundering my mouth, moving against mine in what could only be described as an attack. The thought of this made things a little clearer. Nothing had changed, we were still fighting, and viciously, but just using a different outlet to do so. 

Not one to allow Malfoy to get the best of me, I pushed up against him, mashing our teeth together in my impatience to best him. His groan reverberated inside my mouth and he became more insistent, his fingers working at my trousers' opening. Realizing that because I had not taken the time to fully dress before settling to mope, he had more clothing on than I did, I ripped at his shirt, snapping off a few of the buttons in my haste to divest him. He let me push off the damaged clothing before jamming his hand into my open trousers, pulling rather hard against my beginning erection. I groaned and arched into his hand, pleasure like I had never felt engulfing my body like flames to parchment. He continued with his vicious stroking, nibbling on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood before sucking it away. I scratched fingernail marks down his spine, feeling the gashes ooze thick liquid beneath my fingers. His lips trailed down my neck, biting hard enough to leave instant marks, before grinding my collar bone between his teeth. 

My head dropped as my mouth opened in a silent cry, my eyes wider than I thought possible. My hands moved underneath his trousers and pants to clench his cheeks, nails digging into the baby-soft skin. I heard him groan into the conclave created by my collar bone as he ground his hips down into mine, his hand having abandon my length in favor of twisting a nipple rather hard. I strangled curse left my lips only to be silenced by his lips. I devoured his tongue, sucking on it as hard as I could. He gasped into my mouth and fought against me, forcing my head to slam against the cement floor. Pain shot through my skull, but I ignored it in favor of dragging my already imbedded nails up his ass cheeks, creating gashes along the skin. 

He yelled a curse and raised up to glare at me, "I fucking hate you, fucking Weasel." Before I could retort, his lips were attached to mine again and I was being ground into the floor. Pain shot up my spine as his grinding began to bruise my tail bone and I bit his tongue in retaliation, causing him to groan and only push harder. I felt one of his hands slide underneath my trousers again, moving over my erection to rub against my opening. Without warning he'd pushed two fingers into me and began to viciously thrust them. I cried out, my exclamation lost in his mouth, but he ignored me and continued to rip me open. He abandoned my lips in favor of biting my earlobe before a harsh, rasping whisper filled my ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard into the floor that you'll forget your own name and you'll be begging me to make you come, you pathetic fucking poor boy." 

I'd gotten lost somewhere in these new sensations and it took a lot of will power to pull myself back out of them, but when I did, I shoved him off, catching him off guard enough to force him sprawling on the floor a few feet away. I sneered at him and sat up, fumbling to find my shirt in the bag I had left open earlier. "You are one sick fuck, you know that? I don't know what you're playing at, but we are not fucking, _ever_. And even if we did, which we won't, I am not about to let you… do that…" A shudder ran through me and I stood up, having been successful in my hunt, and tugged the shirt over my head. He just sat there, staring at me, looking slightly in disbelief at my having shoved him away. "I can't believe you would… I mean… Eww… That's low even for you." 

He growled and struggled to stand up, righting his trousers as he straightened, "Fuck you, Weasel. You liked it and you know you want more." He took a step toward me and his glare had somehow turned predatory. Unnerved, I took a step back, picking up my bag as I did so. "Admit it. You loved it. You're a dirty little whore and now you want nothing more than to be my dirty little whore." He took another step. 

Infuriated, I punched him right in the nose again, ensuring that if it hadn't been broken before, it most certainly was now. Before he could recover, I stormed out, disgusted and going to desperate mental measures to excuse what had just happened. 

fin - 


End file.
